


The Line

by emlovesyouu



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Childhood Friends, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 23:26:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 44,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emlovesyouu/pseuds/emlovesyouu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They only saw each other once a year. For one month. Every Summer. And that was it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2001

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaine: 6, Kurt: 7.

They say that, as children, we only remember a small fraction of our memories. And even when we do remember them, that they're not exactly accurate; that they're a warped and imaginative version of what really happened. I don't believe that though, I never really have; I remember every second of that first time I met him. I remember it as clearly as I remember eating breakfast this morning, even though it happened more than a decade ago, but perhaps that's different. Maybe there's something we have in our minds as children that help up recognise what moments in our lives are big and important enough to be worth remembering. And meeting him was definitely that...

It was the Summer just after I'd turned six and, as usual, we were down at the lake. We'd been coming to the lake for as long as I could remember, every Summer for a month. I loved it. I loved that the house was old and wooden and on stilts. I loved being able to go swimming whenever I wanted – well, as long as someone was with me. My brother Cooper was a different story though. He's a lot older than me, eight years older to be exact. He'd always loved the lake just as much as me, but this year was different. Cooper spent the entire car ride complaining. I never complained; I was speaking to Tommy next door and he has never been to a lake before so I must be very lucky.

We didn't arrive until very late at night; Dad had had to work that day so we didn't leave until the afternoon. The first thing I noticed when we arrived, though, was that the small blue house next door to ours had lights on inside. No one lived there so I had never seen the lights on before.

“Mummy, look! There's lights on in that house!”

“Oh, somebody must have bought it. About time too, that place has been abandoned for years,” his Mum replied, seeming just as excited as he was, as she unloaded their bags from the car.

“Can we go over and say hi?” I said, barely able to keep still.

“No, honey. It's too late now, they're probably already in bed. But I promise we can go over and introduce ourselves tomorrow. How about that, hey?”

We didn't.

Well, we _tried_. But they weren't home so we decided to go to the park instead. Technically it's not really a park – it's a _picnic ground_ – but it has a big area that is sand which is kind of like the sandpit at the park near my house, and they have a seesaw as well. I wasn't allowed to play on it until after we'd eaten lunch, I didn't mind that much because Dad was making his hamburgers which are my favourite food in the whole world. Once we'd finished eating I was finally finally allowed to go and play. There was already another kid playing in the sand, a girl who looked to be about the same age as me. She had a little shovel that she was using to dig a hole in the sand. I hadn't even thought to bring my shovel; I wish I had though.

“Hi. I'm Blaine.”

The girl looked up at me quickly, and said a quick, “hello” before going back to her digging.

“Could I maybe dig with you? I forgot my shovel, but I could use my hands?” Mum always tells me off for getting my hands dirty; last Summer I got banned from the muddy area around the side of the house because I'd wanted to make mud pies and then got mud all over my new clothes.

“No. I don't want to play with a _boy_.”

“ _Oh_. Okay.” No one had ever spoken to me that way before – so meanly – except maybe for Mum when she found me making the mud pies. I didn't like it. I don't know why she wouldn't want me to play with her because I'm a boy. What difference does it make if I'm a boy or a girl?

I didn't want to annoy her though, I felt like I'd already annoyed her enough already, so I moved over to another section of the sand and sat down. I started to build a castle, but it was really hard without a bucket. I was working on building one of the castle's towers when I felt a light tap on my shoulder.

I felt panicked for a moment, thinking that maybe it was the girl coming to be mean to me again, but the girl was still over there digging her hole. I turned around then, and that's when I saw him.

He was so pretty. Other than my mum, he was probably the prettiest person I'd ever seen. He had blue eyes and really nice hair, not curly like mine. He was wearing a pair of overalls that I was really jealous of; I'd been asking Mum for a pair for ages. He was standing on the edge of the sand, chewing on his thumb nail while holding a yellow shovel in his other hand.

“I saw you digging by yourself without a shovel. I have a shovel, my mum bought it for me for my birthday. Did you want me to help you?” he smiled at me then, holding up his shovel.

“Yeah, thanks. I'm building a castle.”

“Ooh, I love castles. Do you have a bucket?”

“No.” I frowned.

He chewed on his lower lip for a few moments, before standing up and brushing the sand off his knees.

“Well we can't build a sandcastle without a bucket.”

“Oh, okay then. Should we make something else?”

He shook his head quickly, holding his hand out towards me and said, “No. I have a better idea, but we have to wait until my mummy looks away. So when I say go, just follow me, okay?”

“Okay, but where are we going?” I asked, emptying the sand out of one of my shoes.

“I'll show you... go!”

And then he was tugging on my hand and pulling me along behind him as he ran, not back towards the campground where all the families were, but away from them and into the trees. We stopped just in front of a tree. It was a really cool tree, I'd never seen one like it before. I don't know anything about trees so I couldn't tell you what type of tree it was but its leaves and branches were so low that you couldn't even see the trunk!

The boy ducked under the branches and a moment later, I couldn't see him at all. “Come on,” I heard his voice say from _within the tree_.

I stepped forward hesitantly and used my arms to move the branches aside. Stepping through the gap, I looked around and saw that we were standing under a huge dome made from the trees branches.

“Wow! This is so cool!”

“I told you so,” the boy said from where he was sitting cross-legged on the ground.

“So what are we gonna do here?” I asked; while it was awesome, there wasn't much stuff I could think of that we could do inside a tree.

“Have you kissed anyone before?”

My eyes widened at that. “ _What_?”

“My mummy kisses my daddy _all_ the time.”

“I saw my brother kissing a girl last week. But I've never ever kissed anyone – besides my mum and dad – I'm only _six_.”

“Well, _I'm_ seven, but I have never kissed anyone either.”

We sat there in silence staring at each other for ages. I don't know why he was talking about kissing. I've never spoken to anyone about kissing before. Not even Cooper.

“I think you should kiss me,” he said quickly with a small nod of his head.

“Kiss you? But I can't – I don't even know your name.”

“Kurt. My name is Kurt. What's your name?”

“Blaine.”

Smiling at him, Kurt said, “Okay, now you should kiss me.”

“Umm, okay...” I didn't know what to do when you kiss someone. Should I stand up? Mum and Dad are always standing when they kiss. But then when I saw Cooper kissing that girl they were laying down on his bed. I don't want to lay down here though, the ground is really dirty. Kurt didn't look like he was going to stand up _or_ lay down. Maybe he wants me to kiss him sitting down...

I leant across then, closing my eyes as I pressed my lips to his quickly. His lips were really soft, much softer than my mum's or my dad's when they kissed me goodnight.

When I sat back down and looked at Kurt, he was smiling. I was smiling too.

“Now we have to get married!”

“Married? Only adults get married though, and we're only little kids!”

“We're not _that_ little. And besides, we kissed, we _have_ to get married now. Don't you ever watch movies? They always kiss when they get married.”

“I guess. Okay. How do we get married?” I'd never thought of getting married before. I didn't think I'd have to think about it so soon. I thought I'd be super old by the time I did.

“We just have to say 'I do'.”

“Should we stand up? They always stand up when they get married in movies,” I pointed out, happy to see that Kurt agreed as we both stood up to face each other. “I do.”

“I do -”

_“Kurt? Kurt, where did you go? Are you hiding again? Do you remember what I told you last time?”_

Kurt grabbed my hand then and walked out from inside the tree. I saw a woman running towards us; she must have been the lady who was yelling.

“Kurt Hummel, don't you do that again!”

“But Mummy, I was just showing Blaine my favourite tree. He'd never ever seen it before!” Kurt said, a small pout on his lips.

“Well next time you have to tell me before you go running off, okay? Come on now, say goodbye to your friend, we have to go now...”

“Bye Blaine.” Kurt said quietly, grabbing onto his mum's hand and waving with his other.

“Bye Kurt.”

Just as Kurt was walking away, Cooper came around the corner, stopping and putting his hands on his hips as he saw me.

“Blaine, seriously, you can't just disappear like that. Mum and Dad were starting to freak out,” he said, holding onto my shoulders and steering me back towards the picnic ground. “Where'd you get off to anyway?”

“I met a boy. I'm in love, Coop!” I said ecstatically, unable to stop grinning.

“Sure you did, bud.”

“No really, I did. We got married and he kissed me! Like when I saw you last week, except we were sitti-”

“Well, congratulations, little brother. Can't wait to meet him.” And then they were back at the picnic table where they'd eaten lunch; they packed everything up and then they went back to the house. He was so preoccupied thinking about his new found love that he completely forgot about the new people who had moved in next door.


	2. 2002

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaine: 7, Kurt: 8.

For two whole months after we returned home from the lake that Summer, there was only one thing I could think about; Kurt. I was either wondering what he might be doing at that time or sulking to Cooper that it would be so long until I could see him again or continually reminding _everyone_ that Kurt was my very bestest friend and one day we would get married for _real_!

As much as my never ending rambling annoyed Cooper to no end, years later he told me that he couldn't help but smile at me with sad eyes whenever I spoke about mine and Kurt's future wedding. He said I was so young and excited and full of joy that he couldn't bare to burst my bubble and tell me that because the government were idiots, it would likely never happen.

Instead he'd say things like, “Only on the condition that I be your best man,” or “At least wait until you're nine or ten, buddy, don't want to go rushing into these things.”

My reaction was always the same though, regardless of what Cooper said; I'd smile to myself and wander off into the next room feeling like I was floating, imagining what clothes we'd wear and what food we'd have and who we'd invite.

Cooper says it was adorable.

It died down after a little while, Kurt only coming up in conversation every now and then, until it was almost never. Cooper thought that I must have forgotten about him; Cooper's an idiot sometimes.

It was a Thursday night at the beginning of Summer when I hear my mum talking on the phone, “Yes, Aaron and Sylvia are coming over on Saturday for dinner. I haven't seen them in so long...”

When she got off the phone I was sitting in the chair across the table from her with a pout on my face.

“Hey honey, what's the matter? Did Cooper take your Power Ranger toy again?” she asked, moving around the table and crouching down in front of me.

“No. We're supposed to be going to the lake tomorrow. I even marked the day on my calendar...”

“Daddy has to work next week, sweetheart, so we're going to go next week instead. Is that okay?”

“I guess so,” I said sadly, dragging my feet as I walked back to my room and crawled up onto my bed, laying down in the middle of it. I glanced first at the bag I'd filled with my clothes that was sitting at the foot of my bed, and then at the calendar that was hanging above my desk. I'd never had a calendar before, but I'd asked Santa for one for Christmas; there was nothing written on any date except for the following date which was circled with the words “SEE KURT AGAIN” written in big letters as neatly as a seven year old could manage.

…

When we finally arrived a week and two days later, I was hurriedly unpacking my clothes into my drawers so I could go next door and visit Kurt; Mum said I wasn't allowed to until my bag was empty.

I was almost finished, only need to put away my socks and pyjamas when Mum called out from downstairs, “Blaine, there's someone here to see you!”

I was then running so fast that I nearly tripped over when I was going down the stairs.

“Kurt!” I yelled happily, running to my best friend who stood next to his mum just inside the doorway.

“Blaine!”

I heard Kurt's mum say something like, “He wouldn't stop talking about Blaine for months,” but he was too busy hugging Kurt to pay too much attention to her words.

My mum invited Kurt's mum to come inside for coffee while I walked Kurt upstairs and showed him my room.

“How was your year?” Kurt asked him as he put the plastic bread rolls in the toy oven.

“I started at a new school. _Big kid_ school. I made a friend, his name is Wesley,” I said before adding quickly, “but you're still my _best_ friend!”

“That's good, 'cause you're mine too!” Kurt said with a huge smile on his face. “And that's really cool about your new school. I didn't do anything exciting, but I'm really happy to see you.”

“Me too!”

Leaning in close to me, Kurt said just above a whisper, “Can you keep a secret?” Nodding quickly, I leant in close so that we were face to face, our noses touching. “Mum told me not to say anything until she spoke to your mum about it but I'm so excited that I can't wait... my mum is asking your mum if you can have a sleepover at my house tomorrow night!”

My eyes went wide at that as I pulled back a little; I'd never had a sleepover before. “Really?”

Kurt nodded quite smuggly, “it was my idea.”

…

Even though I wasn't going over to Kurt's house until five o'clock, I already had my pyjamas and toothbrush packed in my backpack by ten am.

“Cooper, what do you do at sleepovers?” I asked as I nibbled on my turkey sandwich.

A small smirk appeared on his face before he leaned really close to me before saying suddenly, “ghost stories!”

I'm pretty certain my face went pale at that; it felt like it did. I really didn't like ghost stories. I didn't like scary movies either. Last year Mum took me and Cooper to see this movie called Harry Potter and there was this one part where there was this ghost wearing a black cloak in a dark forest and he was chasing the main boy. Luckily this man that was actually half-horse saved him but I still couldn't sleep properly afterwards for a week!

“G-ghost stories?”

“Yeah, buddy. If you're going to be a big kid and go to a sleepover you have to be able to cope with some ghost stories. You don't want Kurt to think you're a baby, do you?”

“No! I'm not a baby, I'm seven!” I protested.

When him and Kurt crawled into their sleeping bags on the floor of the play room that night, he asked quietly, “Hey Kurt... do you like ghost stories?”

Kurt rolled over so that they were facing each other. “Oh no. I _hate_ ghost stories!”

“Oh thank goodness!” I breathed a sigh of relief. “I was talking to Cooper this afternoon about what you do at sleepovers – 'cause he's old he's been to _heaps_ – and he said you have to tell ghost stories. And he told me you'd think I was a baby if I got scared.”

“I don't think you're a baby. And even if you are, then I am too,” Kurt smiled at me in the dark, reaching out to grab my hand with his.

“Good. I was so worried that you wouldn't want to be my friend anymore.”

“Never... Oh I know, we should promise that we will always, always be best friends, even if we don't like ghost stories!” Kurt said excitedly, moving so he was sitting and tugging on my hand until I was sitting as well. “Okay. I, Kurt Hummel, promise with all my heart that you will always be my best and most favourite friend. Now it's your turn.”

“I, Blaine Anderson, promise with all my heart that you will always be my best and most favourite friend.”

Kurt reached across and linked his pinky finger with mine, and then shook them like we were shaking hands.

“See, we can't break it now. No one can break a pinky promise.”

…

The next week there was a carnival on in the park grounds. It was only there for two days, Saturday and Sunday. Mum said that Dad had work to do on Saturday but that we could go on Sunday.

So Sunday morning I got up bright and early, got dressed and had breakfast before asking if I could walk over to Kurt's house and ask if he could come to the carnival with us as well.

I had to wait until Cooper was finished getting ready, which was another _half hour_. When I rang the doorbell, we had to wait about a minute before Kurt's mum answered the door.

“Oh Blaine, sweetie. How are you?”

“I'm great! There's a carnival on today and Mum said that if it was okay with you that Kurt could come with us,” I said hopefully.

“I'm sorry Blaine, but Kurt is feeling really sick today. He's sleeping right now but maybe if you come past on your way back from the carnival you can come in and see how he's doing?”

Kurt was sick? “Is – is he gonna be okay?”

“Of course, sweetie. He just needs to rest for a little while.”

“Oh okay. Can you give him a hug for me then?”

“Yes, I can do that. Now go and have fun at the carnival!”

Even though Kurt couldn't come with us, the carnival was still really fun. I didn't go on any of the rides; Dad and Cooper went on those together while me and Mum watched. Mum let me buy cotton candy which she _never_ lets me have, and she even bought me a lolly pop to save for later. We got hot dogs from the hot dog stand for lunch and after we ate Dad gave me and Cooper some money to play the games.

I wasn't very good at any of them, but Cooper was really great!

“Cooper?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“Do you think you could try and win something for Kurt? I feel sad that he couldn't come and I think it would make him happy if we got him something,” I said, holding out my last token.

He played the clowns game – that was his best one – and he won! He lifted me up so I could see over the counter to pick out the prize. I chose a small stuffed dog toy; it was super cute and I knew that Kurt liked puppies.

“How was the carnival?” Kurt's mum asked as she let me into their house later that afternoon.

“It was great. It would have been better if Kurt was there though,” I said a little sadly, following her to Kurt's room.

“Kurt, you have a visitor.”

Creeping my head around the side of the door I saw Kurt sitting up in his bed, his hair messy and the end of his nose a bit red.

“Blaine!” he said, his nose sounding stuffy.

I climbed up onto the bed and sat down next to him and then pulled out the toy from where I'd been hiding it behind my back.

“I thought you might be sad that you couldn't come today so I got you this. Well, actually Cooper won it, but I asked him to win it for you because he's better at the games than I am,” I smiled.

“You got this for me?” Kurt asked disbelievingly, taking the toy from my hands and snuggling it up against his face.

“Yeah,” I said bashfully, suddenly feeling a little shy.

“Thank you. I love it!”

I laid down on the bed next to Kurt as he tucked his new toy under the covers between us. I don't remember falling asleep, I only remember waking up briefly when someone tucked me into my own bed.


	3. 2003

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaine: 8, Kurt: 9.

I knew something was wrong.

Before we'd left the lake at the end of the Summer, Kurt's dad had suggested that we give each other our home addresses so we could write letters back and forth throughout the year. Having assumed that I would have to wait nearly a whole year before I could speak to Kurt again, I thought it was a terrific idea.

“You mean I can talk to Kurt even when we're not here?” I'd asked disbelieving; could you really do that?

“Yeah, squirt! You can write each other whenever you want.”

So that's what lead my mum and I to the store the day after we got home, having begged her and promised to do all my chores for the rest of the week without complaint. She let me my a notebook, a packet of pretty pencils and a box of stamps. As soon as we got home that afternoon I ran up to my room and sat down at my desk. In the neatest writing I could muster, I told Kurt all about the drive home and how Cooper had spent the whole time on his phone, and then about how Mum had taken me to the shops.

I got a reply two weeks later; Kurt's writing was much neater than mine. Soon after that my very favourite thing was coming home from school to see an envelope sitting on the end of my bed. Every time he wrote me a letter Kurt would use different coloured paper and different coloured pens; sometimes the pens would even be sparkly. 

And that's how it continued, writing letters every couple of weeks and getting replies just as frequently. The longest I had to wait was just after Christmas, when it took Kurt three and a half weeks to reply; but he apologised in his next letter saying that they had gone to stay at his grandparents so he couldn't write back.

So that's why I knew something was wrong. Other than that one time, Kurt had always replied to me within a fortnight; this time is had been seven weeks.

At first I thought that maybe Kurt had gone to visit his grandparents again, but it was the middle of the school year and seven weeks was a really long time to be away from home; we weren't even gone that long over Summer. So he couldn't be visiting them for that long, could he?

“Mama, why do you think Kurt hasn't replied to my letter? He's always replied before,” I asked one night, trying not to cry as she tucked me into bed.

Running her hands through my hair the way she knew I liked, she said quietly, “I don't know, honey. Maybe Kurt's just busy. And you'll see him in a few weeks time when we go down to the lake anyway, so you can ask him then. Come on, time to go to sleep.”

I couldn't sleep; even though Mum had tucked me in just as she did every night. I tossed and turned until I finally decided that maybe if I got a glass of warm milk it would help me fall asleep.

I wasn't supposed to come out of bed once I'd already been tucked in, so I crept down the hallway on my tiptoes, trying to be as quiet as I could. However I stopped just outside my parents' bedroom door when I heard my mum talking on the phone and sniffling. 

“I'm so so sorry. I can't imagine what you must be going through. How is he?... Oh the poor thing. If there's anything we can do, anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask... I should let you go but take care of yourself, and call if you need anything.”

When I heard her hang up the phone and let out a small sob, I stepped into the doorway. “Mum? Why are you crying?”

“Oh Blaine!” she said startled, quickly brushing away her tears. “I'm fine, nothing to worry about. Why aren't you in bed?”

“Couldn't sleep,” I mumbled. I may be young and naïve – as Cooper always reminded me – but I could tell that she was lying. My mum never cried, so it must be something really really sad.

“How about I tuck you in again and then sing you to sleep, okay?”

When I woke up the next morning it was to my mum's arms wrapped tight around my waist.

…

Mum had been acting weird ever since I overheard her talking on the phone that night. I asked Cooper if he thought so too, but he was always so busy on his phone that he said he hadn't noticed.

“Honey, there's something I need to talk to you about,” she said as she knelt down next to the chair where I sat looking out the window at the blue weatherboard house next door, waiting for a familiar car to drive up the drive way.

“Is it about Kurt?” I asked, a little scared; we'd been here for nearly two weeks now and Kurt still wasn't here.

“Kind of. Come on, lets go and sit on the couch with me.”

She didn't start speaking until I was seated opposite her, leaning against the arm of the couch.

“Blaine, do you remember when you were younger, how grandma got sick and then she went to heaven?”

I nodded quietly. I remembered; Mum and Dad kept crying, Cooper was crying too but every time I asked him why he said he wasn't and that it was just his allergies. Cooper doesn't have any allergies though.

“Well, a few months ago Kurt's mum was in an accident, and she was really hurt and I'm afraid she didn't make it.”

“W-what?” I asked, my eyes filling up with tears.

“She's gone to heaven, honey.”

“Is she coming back?”

“I'm so sorry, Blaine. She's not coming back... I spoke to Kurt's dad and they're both very sad and miss her very much, which is why they're not here right now. But he said they would probably come down next week or the week after – Blaine? Oh honey...”

I burst into tears as Mum wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into her lap. I felt silly curling up in her lap – I was eight now, after all – but I didn't really care.

“I don't want Kurt to be sad,” I cried into her shoulder.

“I know you don't. Which is why, when they get here next week, you just have to be the best friend you can to Kurt. To help cheer him up. Do you think you can do that?”

I nodded, wiping my nose on my sleeve; Mum usually told me off for doing that but she didn't say anything this time.

We sat there for a while not talking until Mum said, “You know, seeing as it's raining, how about you and I make some of those strawberry and white chocolate cookies you love so much?”

And I couldn't very well say no to cookies.

…

Kurt and his dad had been here for two days now and, just as Mum had asked me, I hadn't said anything to him about his mum. The first night they got here they ate dinner at their house, but last night and again tonight they were over for dinner; Mum always says that when she feels helpless she cooks. Mum had told me that they would be really sad and that I would need to cheer them up, but I hadn't expected them to be that sad. Normally when people are sad you can only tell if they speak to you or if they are crying, but just looking at Kurt and Burt I could tell that they were sad. And they both looked so tired like they hadn't slept for a week.

“Well this was delicious. Thank you again for having us over,” Burt said as he wiped his mouth and hands with a napkin. 

“It was no trouble at all. You two are welcome anytime you like,” Mum replied with a smile.

“It's just hard, you know, Friday nights were our...”

As Burt went quiet, I heard an almost silent sniffle beside me that, had I not been sitting so close, I wouldn't have heard, and glanced over to see Kurt looking down at his knees, a few tears falling on his cheeks. I didn't know what to say. And I didn't want to say anything that would make him even more sad so instead I put down my cutlery and reached across to take Kurt's hand in mine. He looked up at me then, his eyes still sad and his tears still there but there was a small smile on his face so I figured I'd done something right.

“Blaine, honey, how about you and Kurt go and watch a movie or something while we wash up?” Mum said, starting to clear the plates.

“Hey! Why does he get out of doing dishes?” Cooper complained.

“Not now, Cooper,” was all she said.

“Come on,” I said quietly to Kurt, tugging on his hand and leading him into the play room.

I was sitting on the floor in front of the TV going through mine and Cooper's dvd collection and picking some out that I knew were funny, and that I knew Kurt liked, when Kurt said quietly, “Did your Mum tell you about... about what happened to my mum?”

My head shot up at that – I didn't think Kurt would say anything, not after Mum told me not to say anything so much.

“Yeah, she did...” I said, turning around so that Kurt and I were sitting opposite each other. “I'm really sorry, Kurt.”

“Thanks. And I'm so sorry that I stopped writing you letters, Blaine. But my mum she... and then I kind of forgot but I promise you that this year I'll always reply.“

“That's okay. And I'm glad, because I really liked writing to you,” I said with a smile.

“Me too,” he said as his face scrunched up and he started crying again. “I just – I just miss her so much.”

Whenever I cried – which wasn't often because I'm a big kid now, well, except for last week but that was different – Mum always sat down and hugged me, singing softly in my ear. I didn't really know the words to any songs that weren't Christmas songs, but I could hum the tune to some and I could definitely hug.

I ended up going with the Harry Potter theme song. I didn't know whether Kurt had seen Harry Potter but I loved it and it made me happy so I thought it might make him happy too. And besides, the song was really pretty.

“You're the best friend anyone could ask for, Blaine,” Kurt whispered in my ear. 

Yes, I'd definitely done something right.


	4. 2004

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaine: 9, Kurt: 10.

“Are you serious?!” Kurt near yelled, jumping up and down on the balls of his feet. “You're actually going to build us a treehouse?”

“Yeah, kiddo. It'll be over at Blaine's house though, 'cause we don't have any trees big enough here,” Burt replied, ruffling Kurt's hair a little before turning to look at me, “it was your dad's idea, after all.”

And that was how the big Build a Treehouse project of the Summer of 2004 began. The following Monday, Dad, Burt, me and Kurt all piled into Burt's 4-wheel-drive and drove into town to pick up supplies. We spent most of the morning in the hardware store, picking out wood and sheets of glass and paint and corrugated iron. It was nearly lunchtime by the time we finished there, so we went to a cafe for lunch and then bought the last few bits and pieces; a set of table and chairs, a hanging lamp.

It was late afternoon before we got back to the lake, _too late to start building now_ , my dad said. Kurt frowned at Burt before he was reassured that they'd start building first thing in the morning.

Which we did. Well, Dad and Burt did while Kurt and I mostly watched, occasionally passing up a hammer or some screws.

We were sitting on the back porch eating sandwiches Mum had made us for lunch when Kurt put his sandwich down and turned to face me.

“Are you alright?” Kurt's voice came out of nowhere, startling me.

“What? Yeah, I'm fine,” I said.

I looked over at Kurt, who was giving me a look so disbelieving I knew he could see right through me. That didn't mean I wasn't going to hold my ground though.

“No you're not.”

“And how do you know that?” I couldn't tell whether it sounded serious or joking to him. And I didn't know which I'd prefer.

“Our dads are building us a treehouse. A _treehouse_ , Blaine! And you're not nearly as excited about this as you should be. So _that's_ how I know something is wrong... wanna talk about it?”

“Do you know what a divorce is, Kurt?” I couldn't have helped the tears forming in my eyes then even if I'd tried.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, reaching over and squeezing my hand. “A girl who went to my school, her parents got divorced. She thought she was going to have to change schools because her mum was moving away, but she stayed with her dad so she didn't have to... why?”

I was silent for a while, trying unsuccessfully not to let Kurt see me crying, but it was then that I saw my dad and Burt walking over, obviously taking a break for lunch as well.

“Uh never mind. Don't worry about it,” I said hurriedly, getting to my feet. “I'm gonna go get us something to drink,” and then I walked away before Kurt could even protest.

I didn't bring it up again, and neither did Kurt; which I was thankful for.

It took another three days before it was finished, but there was still only the rope ladder Burt has found in the garage, so Kurt and I weren't allowed to go up there until they built an actual one.

“We'll make a proper one tomorrow and then you two can play in it all you want,” my dad said, flipping the hamburgers on the barbecue.

“Oooh, can Blaine and I have a sleepover in the treehouse? Blaine! How awesome would it be to have a sleepover in there?!” Kurt said excitedly and Mum dished up dinner.

The idea of having a sleepover up in our very own treehouse – mine and Kurt's – was seriously exciting. So exciting, in fact, that instead of answering I just stared at our parents and nodded frantically.

“We'll have to think about it. Having a sleepover is one this but -” Mum said quietly before being interrupted by Dad, who'd just sat down at the table, “I don't see why that should be a problem. Anyway, we'll only be just inside if you need anything.”

“What do you think, Burt?” Mum asked.

“I don't see a problem with it,” Burt smiled in return.

“Okay. You boys can have a sleepover in the treehouse – but wait! Only on the condition that you both help clean up after dinner without _any_ complaints. So, is that a yes?”

“Yes!” “Yes, Mrs Anderson!”

“Now that that's settled, time to start eating before your dinner gets cold.”

It was two night after that, after a secure ladder has been built, that we found ourselves climbing up and down that ladder, bringing up pillows and sleeping bags and torches and snacks.

“Okay, now remember. Just because you _want_ to stay up here the whole night, it doesn't mean that you _have_ to, okay? If you get scared or you're too cold or you just don't want to stay out there anymore, that's fine. We'll keep the back door open and you and Kurt can just go and sleep in your room,” Mum fussed.

“ _Mum_! Stop acting like I'm going far away, I'm only going to the back yard. And Kurt and I are big kids now, we'll be fine. Won't we, Kurt?” I said, turning to look at Kurt who was standing next to me.

“Yup! Perfectly fine!,” he smiled.

“See, Mum!” I said.

“Okay, okay. You two go and have fun,” she laughed, albeit a little nervously, giving both Kurt and I a quick kiss on the forehead.

My dad and Burt called out a, “have fun boys!” from the living room as we ran past them and out to the back yard.

Ever since out first sleepover two Summer's ago, sleepovers had become one of mine and Kurt's favourite things. We'd had a few sleepovers last Summer; all at Kurt's house because him and Burt missed his mum and we didn't want to leave Burt all by himself; and since then it had kind of become an unspoken vow that we would have at least one every year. We would usually watch a movie and eat some popcorn, before we tucked ourselves into our sleeping bags and told each other funny stories about things that had happened throughout the year. But our treehouse didn't have a TV, so we couldn't watch any movies. Instead we sat facing each other, wrapped in our sleeping bags with a torch resting between us, eating the buttered popcorn and potato chips Mum had let us take from the cupboard.

“Hey, Blaine?”

“Yeah?” I asked, licking the salt and vinegar flavouring from my fingertips.

“You know the other day how you asked me if I knew what a divorce was...?”

I froze. I thought – well, I'd _hoped_ – that he would have forgotten about that. Apparently he hadn't.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Why did you ask me that?” Kurt was looking at me now, but unlike the simple curiosity that was there before, it was now mixed with sadness empathy.

I didn't know what to say. I could lie about it and just say that I was curious about what it was, that I'd overheard someone say it, and that would be it. Which wouldn't entirely be a lie, because I had overheard someone say it; and that someone was Cooper, which was why I was so scared.

“I think my parents might be getting a divorce,” I finally stammered out, unable to keep my eyes from filling with tears.

I'd first started noticing something was wrong when Cooper and I were on holidays for Easter. I was sitting on my bed reading _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_ for the second time since it was released last year when I heard what sounded like crying from the other side of my wall; the wall that backed onto Cooper's room. I grabbed my bookmark from beside me – you can't dog ear pages, it's not right – and put it between the pages I was reading before quietly opening my door and sneaking up to Cooper's room. His door was only open a centimetre or so, but I could still hear him; he was talking on the phone.

_“God, I just don't want to be another one of those kids who gets fucked around by his parents' divorce. I mean, look at Shane. I've been expecting it for months really, half the time they don't even sleep in the same bed anymore...”_

I quickly ran back to my room and shut the door before my sob could escape. I knew what a divorce was; Isabelle, a girl from my school, her parents got divorced and she had to move away. But Cooper's lied to me a hundred times before, so maybe he was lying about this too. Except when I pretended to be asleep when Mum came and tucked me in, and then waited up until everyone had gone to bed, I snuck out to find that Cooper was telling the complete truth this time.

“Are you sure?” Kurt asked quietly.

I half nodded and half shrugged, “I think so. I heard Cooper talking about it to someone on the phone. And Mum and Dad hardly even sleep in the same bed anymore... most of the time Dad sleeps on the fold out couch in the basement.

“They might not get a divorce though. They might just be a little bit angry at each other at the moment.”

“Maybe,” I sniffled, wiping my nose on the edge of my sleeping bag. “If they do get divorced though, do you think they'll still let me come here to see you?”

“I hope so,” he said, reaching across and squeezing my hand.

“I hope so, too,” I whispered.

“And we'll always have our letters, that won't ever change!”

I was about to agree when there was a scutter across the roof, both of us moving suddenly so we were sitting shoulder to shoulder.

“What was that?” I whispered, barely audible.

“I don't know. A – a possum maybe?”

“I don't think I like possums...”

“Did you want to go inside?”

“No. We have to prove them all wrong, we _can_ stay up here all night!” I wouldn't let Cooper have that satisfaction. “Unless you wanted to go inside...”

“No, I'm good. As long as we stay like this, I'm good.”


	5. 2005

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaine: 10, Kurt: 11.

It was starting to get really cold. I could feel Kurt shivering next to me as we sat side by side, pressed close together. Now, as the sun was just starting to set, would normally be the time that Mum would call us inside and make us put jumpers on; even though it was Summer, it still got quite cold at night. Instead Kurt and I were still wearing our shorts and tshirts we'd been wearing all day. Our dads had decided it would be fun to go camping for a few days; just us boys. Initially Cooper had offered to stay behind with Mum so that she wouldn't be alone, but instead she had decided to invite down some of her friends from back home. Needless to say, Cooper came with us.

Kurt was really excited. He said that he, his mum and his dad used to always go camping with his cousins when he was younger. Cooper loved camping too. He'd done scouts when he was my age so he was pretty good at all of that stuff; knew how to light a fire and put up a tent. But I'd never done scouts. When Mum had given me the option, I chose to take up violin instead. Cooper had given me a hard time about it; _you don't get any_ real _skills learning the violin_. Mum had reassured me that it didn't matter what Cooper said; if I wanted to learn violin, I could learn violin. So I did. And I was actually – _am_ actually – really good at it.

So yeah, I'd never done scouts. And the closest I'd ever been to camping was when Kurt and I had slept up in our treehouse one night last Summer. That hadn't been too bad. It was only just in the back yard, after all. Still, there'd been a few too many strange noises out there for my liking. I was too stubborn to go inside though, so we'd stuck it out, and we survived. Although that's not to say that the next morning when I was alone with Mum I didn't tell her just how scared I was.

Dad and Burt were sharing a tent, and then Cooper was going to share with me and Kurt, 'cause we're the littlest. We'd left yesterday after lunch, driving as far as we could before walking the rest of the way until we reached a small clearing where we were going to be staying.

Kurt and I walked around collecting sticks and wood while the others set up the tents; we'd offered to help but Cooper told us we'd just get in the way.

And in the end, camping wasn't all that bad. We'd brought cans of spaghetti and baked beans to cook over the fire for dinner. I don't like baked beans, so I let Kurt have mine because he loves them. And when we went to bed, surprisingly there weren't that many spooky noises. There was the occasional breaking twig or gust of wind, but other than that it was silent but for our breathing.

So yes, camping wasn't that bad; until this afternoon. Kurt and I had been playing around after lunch; climbing trees, playing tiggy, skipping stones. One minute we were listening to my dad telling Cooper off for being on his phone all the time – _Dad, I'm 18!_ \- and the next we were in the middle of the bush, the campground nowhere in sight.

“Hey, uh Blaine?” Kurt asked a little nervously once we'd both stood rooted to the spot for a few minutes. I felt him step closer and intertwine his hand with mine. “Do you know where we are?”

“Uhm,” I looked around, but nothing looked familiar; or maybe everything was _too_ familiar. “I think we came from that way. C'mon, let's go,” I said, giving Kurt's hand a tug.

In all honesty, I _had_ thought we'd come from that direction. But after we'd been walking for at least fifteen minutes, I wasn't so sure anymore. Kurt must have noticed my unease as not a minute later, he stopped walking.

“B, I don't think this is the way we came...”

I started turning and looking around, once again trying to find something that looked even vaguely familiar.

“I don't – I don't think so either,” I said just above a whisper, panic starting to set in a little bit. “Should we try going that way?” I point over to our left.

I began to worry my bottom lip then, a bad habit I'd always had; I'd always been the biggest worrier in the family, even moreso than Mum.

“Stop biting your lip, you don't want to get ulcer again, do you? We'll be fine. We'll just find somewhere to sit and our dads will find us soon enough.”

I nodded and did as Kurt said, before he pulled me over and we sat with our backs against a large tree.

We stayed silent for a while, both waiting to hear some sound indicating that our dads or Cooper was nearby, as if by us sitting down they would magically find us straight away. That wasn't the case. I tried to stop the tears welling up in my eyes, but the panic in my chest was building up and up and I felt like if I didn't cry or scream or do _something_ that I would explode. I shut my eyes and took deep breaths just like Mum had told me the morning of my first day at my new school. I forgot about the fact that we were lost, I forgot about the fact that our dads had no way of finding us, I forgot about the fact that the cold felt like it was seeping in and I couldn't feel my toes anymore.

Kurt let go of my hand then, and the lack of contact made my eyes open suddenly, seeking him out to make sure he was still there. That panic subsided a moment later, when Kurt shuffled closer and wrapped both his arms around me in a tight hug. I wanted to fling my arms around him too, but he was hugging me so tight that my arms were pinned to my sides.

“It's okay, B. We're gonna be okay,” he whispered in my ear, and it was like a wave of calmness was washing over me.

“Are you excited about the new Harry Potter book coming out?” Kurt said after a few minutes, pulling back a little. I opened my eyes and turned to find Kurt smiling at me, reaching out to wipe a few stray tears that had escaped from my cheeks.

“The new Harry Potter book?”

“Yeah, didn't you say it comes out next month?” Kurt asked.

“Yeah it does, on the 16th. Did you really remember that?” I asked disbelievingly; Kurt hadn't really ever been all that into Harry Potter.

“I may not have read any of them but you're my best friend and they're your favourite thing in the world, so of course I remembered. Do you have any predictions for what you think will happen?”

While it was easy for him to assume that Harry Potter was my favourite thing, it isn't – he is – but I thought I'd keep that to myself for now; after all, I never give up an excuse to talk about Harry Potter. We talked about that for a while, Kurt mostly nodding to what I said – I knew he was only talking about it because he knew that I was scared and this would distract me. But when I mentioned that I was trying to learn how to play the Harry Potter theme song on the violin, Kurt's eyes lit up.

“I love music. And hey, why haven't I heard you play the violin yet?” he said, pretending to be offended.

“I don't have lessons over Summer, just during the school year, so I never really thought of bringing it with me,” I shrugged.

“Well, as your best friend, I think you should bring it with you next Summer so you can play something for me. I mean, everyone keeps talking about how good you are but how can I believe them if I haven't heard you for myself?”

“Okay, on one condition though... you have to play something on the piano for me,” I smiled.

Kurt's brow furrowed then, “How'd you know I played the piano? I don't think I ever told you that...”

“Maybe I'm just psychic?” I suggested as I laughed.

“My dad told you, didn't he?”

“Yeah, my mum was telling him about violin last week and he mentioned it. So do we have a deal, I'll bring my violin if you play something on the piano?”

Kurt grinned widely and stuck his hand out to shake mine, “you have yourself a deal-”

_“Kurt! Blaine!”_

Both of our eyes lit up them, jumping to our feet almost immediately as we yelled back, “Dad! Dad!”

We started half-walking half-running in the direction of their voices, my legs feeling like jelly after sitting down for so long.

“Dad!” I called as Dad, Burt and Cooper came into sight, about a hundred metres away. Kurt and I were running then, stumbling over a few branches as we did so, until we threw ourselves into our dads' arms.

“You found us!”

“Where on earth did you guys go? We've been worried sick!”

“Oh thank god you're alright.”

“We got lost and couldn't find our way back.”

It took us maybe twenty minutes to get back to our campsite – Burt was smart enough to bring his phone with him so we could use the GPS – and by that time it was almost dark. Dad and Burt decided it would be best if we went back tonight, rather than stay here a few more nights as we were going to originally. Kurt and I protested, saying we didn't mind staying. We made sandwiches to eat on the way back and soon enough we were making our way back through the trees to where the car was parked; Kurt and I walking behind our dads but in front of Cooper so we had no chance of getting lost again.

“Hey Dad,” Kurt yawned once we were nearly back.

“Yeah bud?”

“Could Blaine stay over tonight, 'cause we didn't get to stay camping for as long?”

“Of course he can,” Burt smiled, reaching back over the centre console to ruffle my hair.

After a whole lot of fussing from Mum, checking me over for what felt like the hundredth time to make sure that I wasn't hurt, she walked me next door.

“Blaine, wait 'til you see what my dad did!” Kurt said as soon as I stepped inside, running up the stairs as I took off after him.

We stopped in the doorway to his room. Above his bed, held up by a ladder on either side, hung a large sheet which was hanging almost to the ground so you couldn't even see his bed.

“He made my bed into a tent!”

Jumping up and down on the balls of my feet, I replied excitedly, “awesome.”


	6. 2006

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaine: 11, Kurt: 12.

It was going to be the worst Summer ever; for two reasons.

The first, was Cooper. He was nineteen – as he so frequently reminded me – which, according to him, meant he no longer needed to come down to the lake over Summer. I love the lake, that's not the problem at all. And Cooper makes it his life goal to annoy me as much as physically possible, so a Summer without him should be a welcome change. That was not the case however. You see, my parents are “on the rocks” as Cooper puts it. They fight – a lot – and always over little things that really aren't worth fighting over. For example, a couple of weeks ago Mum started yelling at Dad in the car on the way to drop me off for my violin lessons because he took the freeway instead of back roads when he _knew the traffic is always bad on the freeway at this time of day_. And just yesterday they spent twenty minutes arguing about when you should add the diced tomatoes to the spaghetti, during which they ended up burning all the meat so we got takeout instead.

So life at home was tense, to say the least. But at least with Cooper around, we could pretend to be talking about something super interesting while they were arguing, or we could start arguing to distract _them_ from fighting for even five minutes. But now Cooper deemed himself “too old” to go on family holidays and instead would spend his Summer either at home or moving between friends' houses. Which left me going alone to the lake with my parents who couldn't stop arguing for more than ten minutes at a time. And normally that wouldn't be so bad because at least I could avoid staying at the house and hang out at Kurt's house instead... Which leads me to the second reason.

Kurt wasn't coming down to the lake this Summer. I found out two weeks ago when Mum picked me up from school and there was an envelope written on with familiar handwriting sitting on the passenger seat – Mum had gotten into the habit of leaving them in the car so that I could read them on the way home and, _hopefully_ , have calmed down enough by the time we got home that I would be able to concentrate on my homework. It started off like any other letter; _How are you? How is school? How is violin? Did you finish reading (insert book title here)?_ And then he said, _I have some bad news_ , and that's when I knew it was going to be the worst Summer ever.

_I have some bad news. You know how I said that Dad was using my bathroom because the shower in his was leaking? It got worse. Now his entire bathroom and the front entrance are flooded and it's going to cost heaps to get it fixed. Which means that Dad is going to have to work all Summer to get the money to pay for the plumbing and the floor to be fixed. Which means I won't be coming to the lake at all this Summer :( I know right, worst news ever!! Why can't I be 16 so I could just drive myself?! We can still write though – Dad gave me the address to your house at the lake so I can send you letters while you're there. You're going down for the month, yeah? Dad promised me that we'll 100% be coming down next year, but even still, that'll be two years without seeing you! Oh, how are things with your parents....?_

“Blaine, sweetie. What's the matter?” Mum asked as we approached a set of lights.

“Kurt's house is flooded and Burt has to work all Summer to pay for it to be fixed, so they're not coming to the lake,” I said quietly, quickly wiping my eyes when a single tears fell onto Kurt's letter, smudging the ink a little.

“Oh Blaine. I'm sorry. I know how excited you were to see him,” she said softly, reaching across the centre console to run her fingers through my relatively tamed curls.

I nodded, not daring to speak as I tried to stop my lower lip from trembling. It didn't take her much longer to realise I didn't want to talk, so we continued in silence until we got home.

So yes, worst Summer ever.

…

“Blaine, come on. This is getting ridiculous!”

 _“Okay!”_ I called back down the stairs.

It was the first Saturday after school had finished and we were supposed to be leaving for the lake; an hour ago.

I'd always been pretty good at stalling for things. Like immunisations – I successfully managed to avoid Mum booking me in for my most recent round of shots for three months, before I ran out of excuses and she picked me up early from school one day to take me.

For the first time in my life I didn't want to go to the lake. And even though I knew postponing going would not change anything, I still tried my utmost hardest to do so. From _I'm just sorting out what books I need for school_ (I didn't need any – we don't get Summer holiday homework in year 5) to _I'm still packing_ to _I can't find Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_ , I'd officially stalled as long as I could and had just been sitting on the end of my bed for the last 15 minutes. Grudgingly I picked up my bag and made my way downstairs, climbing into the back seat and stared out the window as I knew I would for the rest of the day.

“You don't have to sit in the back by yourself, you know?” Dad said as he packed the last of the stuff in the boot.

It was only then that I realised that Mum wasn't in the car.

“W-where's Mum?” I asked wearily, slightly afraid of what the answer would be.

“She had to drop some things off for Wes' mum, and then she was going to do the shopping, so she's going to meet us down there.”

This was it. It was happening and it was just as horrible as I thought it would be. My parents were going to get divorced. Not only were they fighting, but now they couldn't even travel in the same car together. It was all I could think about the entire way there. What would happen with me and Cooper? Would we live with Mum or with Dad? What would happen with school and violin? I was so preoccupied with my thoughts that I was actually shocked when we pulled up behind Mum's car in our driveway at the lake.

But apparently I was still preoccupied even then because I actually literally froze a metre from the front step when I realised that there was someone sitting there.

“ _Kurt?!!_ Oh my god, what are you doing here?” I screamed, finally snapping out of my trance and running into Kurt's waiting arms. “I can't believe you're here! So your dad didn't have to work after all – why didn't you tell me?”

“I missed you,” Kurt said, hugging me tightly before pulling away. “And no, Dad still has to work...”

“What do you mean?” I asked confused, noticing Kurt glance back between me and the house a few times.

“I came here with your mum, actually. After she heard from you that we wouldn't be coming, she called my Dad and organised it all. I'm only here for two weeks, but that's better than nothing!”

“Mum!! You knew I would see Kurt this whole time and you didn't even tell me!” I said to her as she stepped out onto the porch, however I couldn't find it in me to actually me mad at her when I had Kurt standing right in front of me.

“And where would the surprise be in that?” she laughed.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I said as I hugged her on my way into the house and upstairs to mine _and Kurt's_ room.

…

Sleepovers in a treehouse were my favourite thing; well, asides from Harry Potter. But even before we had our treehouse, sleepovers were my favourite thing, particularly sleepovers with Kurt. So _two whole weeks_ of sleepovers with Kurt was _awesome_!

The weather this Summer wasn't very good, and it rained heaps. So we only ended up sleeping in the treehouse 2 or 3 times, and the rest of the time we stayed in my room; me in my bed and Kurt on the pull out trundle. And because of the rain, we had to spend the majority of the two weeks inside. And the one day we didn't, well...

As a thank you for bringing Kurt, Burt gave us his old kayak, so of course Kurt and I were going to use it. In our time stuck inside the house, Dad had given us multiple lessons. We'd both used kayaks before and our section of the lake was only small, so we'd be in view of the house the whole time. So when there finally came a day – more than a week in – that there were actually blue skies, we were itching to get out of the house and onto the lake.

“Okay, and that's both of your life jackets done,” Mum said as she tugged hard on my life jacket strap. “Now you remember everything Dad told you, don't you?”

“ _Yes_ , Mum!”

“Well then, you boys go and have fun.”

Everything was fine for a while. I sat in the front seat while Kurt sat in the back, just as we'd practised inside. We both made sure not to lean too far over the edge, because Dad had drilled into us a hundred times not to do that because _you will flip it_. The one thing, however, that we didn't quite take on board was making sure to hold onto the oars tightly. Which is how we ended up out in the middle of the lake with no oars.

“So umm, should we use the whistle?” Kurt asked, trying to stifle laughter.

“No!” I said immediately. Dad had given me a whistle that we were to use if we got into trouble – I think it was because of the “getting lost in the woods” situation last year. “We can do this. Umm, one of us could swim out and get them?”

“The water is _freezing_. And they're hundreds of metres away already.”

“Hmm,” I said, trying to think of a solution but coming up with nothing. It was then that I started laughing, Kurt finally breaking just seconds later. “I think there might actually be something wrong with us. Maybe the bad weather was actually God sending us a message; _stay inside where you can't get into any trouble_.”

It took us a few minutes to calm down, and then we both just sat there in silence, entirely unsure of what to do.

“So if we're not using the whistle, and neither of us are going to get in the water, I guess we're going to paddle back?” I asked.

“Paddling it is,” Kurt agreed, rubbing his hands together exaggeratedly.

When you're using oars, kayaks can actually move pretty fast. But when you're using your hands? Yeah, not so much. It took a _lot_ longer than we thought it would, but we made it, without being caught out once by my dad who was working on something on the porch – at one point he glanced over at us, but Kurt just waved at him, pretending that we were looking at something in the water.

“You boys have fun?” Dad asked as we were dragging the kayak back up to our shed.

“Yeah, yeah. Heaps of fun.”

Later that night when we were sitting on my bed watching Mulan, Dad knocked on the door and poked his head in.

“Do you boys know anything about the two oars that are floating in the lake just outside the house?”

Feigning innocence, Kurt and I shared a look before shaking our heads with hurried explanations of “No, no, of course not” and “Wow that's weird.”

“Okay, whatever you say...”

The second he left the room we both broke down into a fit of laughter. So the “worst Summer ever” didn't turn out to be so bad after all.


	7. 2007

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaine: 12, Kurt: 13.

_Beep. Beep. Beep beep._

You know those moods you get in where you're a little annoyed at something and then all of a sudden every little noise makes you want to pull your hair out? Yeah, well, I was in one of those moods. Which is super weird for me because I don't get all that annoyed too easily; growing up with Coop kind of makes one immune to annoyance. But today was different. Today I was at the point where I could quite literally start pulling my hair out at any moment.

It was late afternoon, nearly sunset, and Kurt and I were sitting down on the small pier just past Kurt's house. I was rereading _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_ for the _hundredth_ time, because the seventh and final book was being released in a week and in the last month I'd started reading them again from the beginning. And Kurt was, well, that's why I wanted to pull my hair out. You see, Kurt got a mobile phone for Christmas because this year Kurt would have to catch the bus home from school two days a week – Burt had to work extra hours – and Burt wanted Kurt to be able to contact him if need be. However, ever since we'd both arrived a week ago, Kurt had practically been glued to it. It was constantly beeping and beeping and pretty soon it was going to turn me insane; I'd read the same sentence about _Felix Felicis_ three times now.

Why the constant texting, you ask? Because Kurt has a girlfriend.

_“Blaine?” Kurt whispered._

_I don't know why we were whispering; we were having our annual first-night-back-at-the-lake sleepover in our treehouse, so there was no way anyone inside would be able to hear us. So yeah, I have no idea, but I guess if Kurt is whispering then I should too._

_“Yeah?” I whispered back, rolling onto my side to face him._

_“I need to tell you something,” he replied, turning on his side as well, “but you can't tell my dad.”_

_“Yeah, of course. My lips are sealed,” I said complete with a fake 'zipping my lips' gesture._

_Still speaking in a whisper, Kurt continued. “Okay, well two weeks ago my friend Riley – I've told you about Riley before, haven't I?” I nodded. “Well, Riley had a joint birthday party with his twin sister Charlotte, so all of her friends were there as well as Riley's, and I don't know who suggested it but everyone decided to play Truth or Dare. And I hate Truth or Dare, as you know.”_

_“Yeah,” I laughed, “Truth or Dare is the worst;_ especially _when you play with Coop.”_

_Kurt laughed for a few moments before turning nervous again. “And then the next thing I know Preston is daring me to ask out the girl that I like. And everyone was just sitting there staring at me expectantly. I don't even like anyone like that but all the girls were laughing and giggling, except this one girl Bianca, who looked like she wanted the world to swallow her whole. So I panicked and asked her out!”_

_That was not at all what I was expecting. When he asked me not to tell his dad I was expecting him to say that he'd done badly on a school assignment or that he didn't want to play the piano anymore or something of that sort._

_“What did she say?” I said, barely above a whisper as Kurt chewed on his bottom lip._

_“She said yes! Apparently she's had a crush on me for ages and that's why all of her friends were giggling. And after she told me that I couldn't exactly say that I didn't want to go out with her. So yeah...”_

_“You have a girlfriend,” I said in shock._

_“I have a girlfriend,” Kurt sighed._

“Ugh, I swear, I have never wanted to strangle someone more in my entire life,” Kurt groaned, collapsing back on the pier, throwing his arms to cover his face.

“Kurt Hummel, who knew there was a violent streak in you? We've been best friends for six years and I'm only just discovering this now?” I joked. “You could have murdered me in my sleep and no one would even have suspected sweet innocent Kurt Hummel.”

“Oh shut up,” Kurt laughed, swinging his arm out in an attempt to hit me but missed me by at least a metre.

We were silent for minute before I said, “You were talking about Bianca right? Cause if you were talking about me it probably wasn't wise of me to bring up how you could kill me in my sleep.”

“Of course I was talking about Bianca. She's lovely, don't get me wrong, but she _will not stop texting me_. Like I get that we're going out but that doesn't mean you need to send 25 texts a day all consisting of variations of _how are you_ and _I miss you_.”

“Oh Kurt, I miss you _soo_ much! I can't wait until school comes back so I can see you again...” I mocked, knowing that laughing always made Kurt feel better. “Stop hanging out with that dorky friend of yours and text me instead...”

“You're not dorky,” Kurt smiled at me, groaning when his phone buzzed again. “If this is what actual dating is like then sign me out. I'll happily live alone with my ten cats.”

“It's alright. I'll come along with my eight cats and we can be forever alone together.”

“Okay, I take that back. You are a dork,” Kurt said, typing out a message.

It was quiet while Kurt was replying to his message, which got me thinking again about what had been bugging me all week. It was silly, really. And it felt silly to even think about asking Kurt about it. Well, not so much silly as embarrassing. But it had been gnawing away at the back of my mind ever since Kurt first told me about Bianca, and I couldn't not ask any longer.

“Hey Kurt?” I asked a little sheepishly.

“Mmm,” Kurt hummed.

“Is it weird that I don't like any girls?”

Kurt lifted his head from where he was still laying back against the pier, looking at me as he realised that I was actually being serious now.

“No, I don't think that's weird. There isn't a set age where you have to start liking them, we have our whole lives for that. And I mean, honestly, I don't really even like them either,” Kurt smiled, rolling over onto his stomach, leaning up on his elbows and resting his chin on his hands. “So, are you excited about _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ coming out next week?”

And with that, all the tension and my annoyance at Kurt's constant texting was gone. “Am I excited? Like that's even a question.”

…

Despite Kurt's reassurances, I still couldn't stop thinking about it. I know that Kurt said there was no set time when we had to start liking girls, but that didn't necessarily mean there wasn't a certain time that we _should_. None of my friends at school were going out with any girls, but they would regularly talk about girls in our class and who they thought was pretty; Wes even talked about how he was in love with this girl Stacey, and had been since Christmas. And even if Kurt said he didn't _like_ any girls, he was still going out with one, which was a giant step above from me.

I kind of wished that Cooper was here. Even though he got on my nerves to no end and quite regularly made me wish I was an only child, if I ever needed to talk to him about something, he would always be there to listen. And I'm sure I could ask Mum if I could borrow her phone to call him, but as soon as I would say that I was calling Cooper, she'd know that something was up. And then I'd have to tell her about it because she can always see right through me when I lie, and I don't really want to talk to her about any of this.

Don't get me wrong, I think girls are pretty just as much as the rest of my friends. But to me they're pretty in the same way that I think my mum is pretty, not in the way that Wes thinks Stacey is pretty. Maybe I just don't – no, I'm being silly. Kurt was right.

…

“Blaine, are you ready to go?”

“I'm coming!” I called back down the stairs as I jumped from my bed, pulling on my shoes.

Today was the day. It was July 21 – the day I'd been counting down to for two years – and Dad was driving me into town because _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ was being released today.

“Thank you,” I said in awe to the cashier as I handed her my money and she passed me the brand new, hardcover novel over the counter.

I walked back to the car holding it to my chest as if I were guarding the world's most precious jewels; and then once we got back to the car, I just sat and stared at it on my lap.

“You gonna open it?” Dad asked after a while.

“Nope, I'm gonna wait until we get back. And then I'm gonna sit up in the treehouse and not come down until I've finished and I know who survives and whether or not they defeat Voldemort and if Ron and Hermione get together and what happens to Hogwarts and if they lock Snape up and -”

“Woah, remember to take a breath every once in a while, otherwise you'll drop dead before you can read it,” Dad laughed.

“I'm just really excited,” I sighed, leaning my head against the window.

“Really? Wow, I never would have guessed from us driving into town at eight in the morning so you could buy it the moment the bookstore opened.”

“Thank you, Dad,” I smiled.

“No problem,” Dad replied as we pulled into the driveway. “Go on. Go and find out what happens.”

I jumped out of the car – book in tow – and ran to the back of the house, climbing up the ladder to the treehouse. I sat down in one of the beanbags and got comfortable before opening to the first page.

_“The two men appeared out of nowhere, a few yards apart in the narrow, moonlit lane...”_

…

It was dark outside now, the sun having set at least an hour or two ago. Mum had brought me a sandwich to eat at lunchtime but had made me come back into the house for dinner. I's shovelled my food down in record time and put my dishes in the sink before running back out to the treehouse.

I was sitting cross-legged on the floor, the closed book beside me, when Kurt's head appeared at the top of the ladder.

“Was it as amazing as you'd hoped it would be?” he asked, pulling himself onto the balcony.

“It was...” I didn't have any words for it. It was heartbreaking and shocking and perfect in a way that I didn't expect, in a way that I never even knew I wanted. “...it was, _so amazing_! But it hadn't really dawned on me until now; I'd been so excited about reading it that I hadn't even given any thought to that once I did, that was it. It's over.”

“Aww, B,” Kurt said, sitting down beside me, his arms coming to wrap around my waste as he rested his head on my shoulder.

…

Two days later I finally decided to ask Mum if I could borrow her phone to call Cooper and, surprisingly, she didn't even question me as to why. I sat on my bed as the phone rang, nervously playing with the corner of my pillow.

“Hey Mum, what's up?” Cooper answered, sounding as though he were in the middle of eating.

“Uh, it's me. It's Blaine.”

“Oh, hey Squirt! What can I do for you today?” he asked cheerfully.

“Can I – can I tell you something?”

He must have noticed my nervousness because his tone was entirely different when he replied. “Yeah, of course. Always.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat before saying quietly, “Coop, I think I might be gay.”


	8. 2008

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaine: 13, Kurt: 14.

I should have told him already, I know that. I've told myself every day for the past 11 months that I need to tell him; Cooper has too, not so frequently but still pretty close. However I sometimes always found a reason not to. Last Summer I'd literally only just realised it myself, so I couldn't exactly tell him when I was scared out of my wits and wasn't even 100% sure myself. And then Summer was over and we both went back to our regular lives of school and music and letters; but despite us still writing to each other constantly, it felt wrong to tell him something so huge in a letter. What would I write? _Hi Kurt. How are you going? Just thought I'd let you know that I'm gay. Oh, how are piano lessons going?_ No. So that was my excuse for a while and it was quite reasonable, Cooper even said so himself. However, for my birthday Mum and Dad bought me a mobile phone so, in addition to our still regular letters, we were then texting all the time too. So my excuse of not wanting to tell him through writing went out the window, because it would be so simple to pick up the phone and call him. It wasn't like I was unsure; I was as sure about it as I was sure that I loved Harry Potter. I am gay. I like boys and I am gay.

So that was the end of my run of excuses, but I still avoided telling him – as well as avoiding talking about girls. If I was being honest with myself, I knew the exact reason why I hadn't told him yet, and it had nothing to do with the mode of communication; I was terrified. I was downright terrified; more terrified than when Kurt and I had our first sleepover in the treehouse and we could hear all the animals, more terrified than when we got lost in the woods, more terrified even than when I was sure that my parents were going to get divorced and I was going to have to move away and never get to see any of my friends or Kurt again. Because telling Kurt made it _real_. I mean, sure I'd told Cooper, but for some reason telling Cooper didn't seem like that big of a deal. But telling Kurt? _Huge_ deal. And it wasn't even so much the thought of rejection; sure, I was a little afraid that Kurt would be disgusted and would never want to speak to me again, but that didn't phase me too much.) It was because once I told Kurt, then I had to tell my parents, and then Wes and the rest of my friends at school, and then sooner or later the entire school will know and that thought is the most terrifying of all.

I knew I had to tell him though, and not even so much because of the fact that it would be wrong to keep a secret this big from my best friend; it was because if I kept this a secret from him any longer, my insides would be twisted beyond repair. I'd practiced it a thousand times in my head, what I would say to him. And I was doing exactly that when I felt my phone buzz once, and then a second time, in my shorts pocket. Pulling out my phone, I saw I had two messages; one from Kurt and one from Cooper.

I opened Kurt's first, _Just arrived, can't wait to see you!_

And then Cooper's, _Chill, Squirt. He's your best friend and he'll love you no matter what._

I sighed with relief, Cooper's message being exactly what I needed to read.

“You alright, sweetie?” Mum asked from the front seat of the car.

I looked up from my phone and replied, “Yeah, yeah. Just a little bit tired.”

“Too excited to sleep last night?”

“Yeah, that's it.” _More like too nauseated to sleep last night._

When we arrived it was already quite late, having eaten dinner on the way, so I lugged my bag up to my room before going over to Kurt's.

“Hey! How are you, bud?” Burt said as he answered the door.

“Yeah, really good,” I said with a bright smile.

“Blaine!” Kurt said as he appeared at the top of the stairs, running down them quickly and wrapping me in a warm hug. “I missed you. Tree house tonight?”

I faked a scoff as we pulled apart, “ _Obviously_ , it's our first night here.”

“Of course, I'll just go grab my stuff and be right down,” Kurt said as he darted back up the stairs.

My palms were sweaty and my hands were shaking as Kurt and I walked across the lawn from his house to mine. “Hey Kurt, I have to tell you something...” I said nervously, wringing my fingers together.

“Yeah?” Kurt said, looking over at me, a small smile on his face.

And then it seemed all too real that Kurt was right here and I was actually about to tell him about this giant secret I'd been keeping for a year and every single word I'd practiced saying for the past few months were instantly gone from my mind.

“Um, I brought my violin down. Cause I promised you I would a few years ago but forgot. This means you finally have to play something for me on the piano, though,” I said quickly, the words flowing smoothly from me as if that was what I'd been intending to say all along.

“Ooh, yay! I can finally see if you really are the musical prodigy everyone says you are,” Kurt laughed.

And so began my Summer of unsuccessful attempts of telling Kurt that I'm gay.

...

To say that Kurt was good at the piano would be the biggest understatement that had ever existed. He was amazing; and even still, that didn't seem like enough to cover it. Burt has always boasted about how good Kurt is, but I'd just thought that was the obligatory bragging that every parent did; I mean, I'm pretty good at violin, but Mum makes it out like I'm the best violinist to ever live. Burt wasn't exaggerating though; when he says that Kurt plays the piano better than most adult musicians, he was not kidding.

“I wasn't that bad, was I?” Kurt said sheepishly after a few minutes; it wasn't until then that I realised I'd been standing there staring at him with my mouth ajar since he's finished playing.

“Bad?” I asked in shock. “Kurt, you were amazing!”

I could see a blush creep up his neck as he bowed his head and mumbled, “You're just saying that.”

“No, I'm really not,” I said in awe.

“What about you, though?” Kurt said quickly to change the topic. “When you said you could play the violin you failed to mention that you could play it like _that_! You don't give yourself enough credit.”

“We couldn't start up our very own orchestra,” I said in a mock English accent.

“I think to be defined as an orchestra you need to have a few more than two members,” Kurt laughed. “But seriously, what other secrets are you hiding from me?”

My throat tightened on me then as I tried to swallow, effectively switching off my vocal chords. I should tell him, _right now_. He literally just asked me what secrets I've been keeping from him and if I say no, that would be an outright lie.

“Hey, B. You okay?” Kurt said, his face concerned.

I swallowed slowly before saying in a slightly-off voice, “Yeah, just a bubble in my throat.”

“Aww, did my wonderful piano playing choke you up?” Kurt joked, moving his hand to cup my cheek. Hours later and I could still feel the burning of his fingertips on my skin.

...

I felt incredibly guilty for not telling Kurt the other day. If I was unsure if Kurt was going to hate me when I eventually did tell him, there was no longer a doubt in my mind that he would. Summer was normally my favourite part of the whole year, except I'd been so wound up by the constant churning in my stomach and the voice in the back of my mind yelling at me to _just tell him already_ that I could hardly enjoy it.

It was Saturday, and ever since Kurt's mum had passed away, we'd all go over to Burt and Kurt's for lunch every Saturday. Today was a barbecue.

“Mmm, it's been so long since I've had a hamburger,” Kurt mumbled, his mouth half full.

“Your dad does make the best hamburgers,” I nodded in agreement.

We were both sitting at the table on Kurt's back porch, our parents still gathered around the barbecue as they ate and laughed.

“Hey Kurt,” I said, my voice a little shaky.

“Mmm,” Kurt hummed in response.

“I – uh. I – could you please pass me the ketchup?”

I chickened out. Again.

And Kurt passed the ketchup to me with a smile.

...

“So, you never did tell me. What happened with you and Bianca?” I asked a week or so later while Kurt and I were attempting – quite badly – to skip stones on the lake.

“Oh god, _Bianca_ ,” Kurt sighed.

I'd gotten a letter from Kurt about three months after I'd gone back to school last year telling me how relieved he was that he and Bianca were no longer boyfriend and girlfriend, meaning he was – and I quote - “a free man who is not going to have eyesight problems at the age of fifteen from texting too much.”

“I honestly don't even remember exactly how it came about but somehow it came up that this boy Parker has a crush on her and she kept bringing it up _all the time_ until I finally just asked her whether she liked him too. She said she did, and yeah. The next day she told me that even though she broke my heart, that I would always be her first love,” Kurt said, breaking into soft laughter towards the end.

“Oh, how is your poor broken heart?” I said with a pout.

“Thoughts of her still pain me every day,” Kurt said solemnly before grinning.

“Did I tell you that Wes finally got the guts to tell Stacey that he liked her?”

“No! What happened?” Kurt said excitedly.

“He asked her during recess right in front of all her friends. I told him that he should have waited until she was alone but no, once he sets his mind to something he has to go through with it. In the end it didn't really matter, apparently she's liked him for ages as well. Wes says they're not officially boyfriend and girlfriend but they walk around holding hands _every_ lunchtime, so that seems official enough to me.”

“Aww, that's so sweet,” Kurt smiled before narrowing his eyes on me and poking me in the shoulder. “What about you, mister? Any girls that take your fancy?”

Now. Now is literally the perfect time to tell him. _No, Kurt. No girls take my fancy because I actually like boys._

“Nope,” I said with a shake of my head, continuing to skip stones even though Kurt had stopped ten minutes ago; any excuse not to have to make eye contact.

“C'mon, surely there's gotta be somebody,” Kurt prodded.

“No. Nobody.”

“B, you know you can tell me, right? I promise I won't tell Cooper, or your parents, or anyone,” Kurt practically pleaded.

“I doesn't matter, I don't like anyone,” I persisted. I knew I was just digging myself deeper and deeper into this hole, but just the thought of telling Kurt right now made me feel sick in the stomach.

“Why are you being like this? You always tell me everything,” Kurt said, sounding slightly offended.

“Because there's noting to tell!” I yelled. I'd never yelled at him before and the words tasted sour coming out of my mouth, leaving an off taste on my tongue. I knew straight away that I shouldn't have yelled at him; he looked shocked and upset. “Kurt, I'm sorry, I –”

“No, that's fine. I think I'm just going to go inside now,” and with a turn on his heel, he was walking back towards his house.

...

It was a few days later and the topic of girls hadn't dared to be brought up again by either of us. After Kurt had walked off, I'd gone back to my house and went to bed early, claiming I wasn't feeling to great; it wasn't a lie, I felt horrible. But the next day neither of us mentioned it and we both pretended that nothing had even happened.

We were both sitting on Kurt's bed watching Mulan, but for the life of me I couldn't concentrate.

“You okay?” Kurt asked. “Mulan's your favourite and you're hardly even paying attention.”

I felt the tears well up in my eyes before I could stop them. “Kurt, I have to tell you something.”

Kurt looked seriously worried now, picking up the remote to pause the movie and then turning so he was facing me. He didn't say anything, just waited for me to continue. Which, after a few deep breaths, I did.

“I'm – I'm gay,” I said as my tears fell onto my cheeks.

“Oh, B,” Kurt said as he leaned across and pulled me to his chest.

“You'll still be my best friend, right?” I said through tears.

“Of course, I'll always be your best friend. I promise,” Kurt said, pressing a kiss to my forehead as he ran his fingers through my curls. It was a little while before my sobs subsided, but once they did Kurt said quietly, “So, are there any boys that take your fancy?” and I couldn't help but laugh.


	9. 2009

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaine: 14, Kurt: 15.

They came in flashes.

A cackling laughter that echoed in my ears for hours after. The sound of footsteps getting louder, heavier, closer, faster. The taste of bile in my throat as I tried to swallow and form words. Bile replaced by blood as one of my teeth went through my bottom lip. The sting of tears behind my eyes as I tried not to let them fall. My breath being forced out of my lungs from a blow to my stomach. The sound of shouts nearby but not close enough. _No. Stop. You're going to kill him._ Pain shooting through every ounce of my body. The crack of ribs. The feeling of my face being grazed as it's pushed into the hard ground.

I woke up in tears, gasping for breath, my body covered in a sheet of sweat. It took me a long time to catch my breath and even longer to stop crying. It had been months and not once had I been able to sleep through the night. I tried to roll over but regretted it instantly as pain shot up my arm. I nursed my arm to my chest as a tear escaped my eyes, only thankful for the fact that at least it was my left arm.

I tried to fall asleep again but the fear that bubbled inside my chest and made me feel nauseous prevented me from doing so. And it was once again a restless night.

“Are you sure you feel up to going, sweetie?” Mum said over breakfast.

“For the thousandth time, yes! I want to get out of here and I want to see Kurt.”

“Yeah, I know you do,” she smiled as she squeezed my hand.

I'd spoken to Kurt a few times on the phone since it had happened, but mostly we'd just texted and avoided talking about it altogether. I didn't want to talk about it, the feelings too raw and the pain too fresh. Kurt understood that but I could still tell that he was worried. I hadn't told him that I couldn't sleep – I hadn't told anyone, but sometimes Cooper gave me a look that made me think that he heard me cry at night. I could pretend that I was okay during the day, putting on a fake smile, but all of those shields fell when I was alone in my room at night, And I had the horrible feeling that those shields would also fall the moment I saw Kurt. And they did.

I'd had it all planned out; get to the lake, unpack my stuff and wait for Burt and Kurt to make their way over to our house and avoid Kurt as much as possible until that night in the treehouse when it didn't matter so much if I broke down.

What I hadn't planned for was Kurt waiting for me on the front step of our porch. I saw him the moment we turned into the driveway and by the time we pulled up next to the house, Kurt was on his feet. I'd barely stepped out of the car before Kurt had his arms wrapped around me, his face buried in my neck.

“Kurt,” I said, my voice breaking as I let out a sob.

“Oh god. B, I was so worried,” Kurt whispered in my ear as he clung to me. Pulling back so he could see me, he placed his hands on either side of my face and looked me straight in the eye. “You are alright, aren't you? You're not hurt anymore?”

“My left arm's still giving me a bit of trouble, but I'm okay. I'm okay,” I said with a watery smile, moving into hug him again, so thankful that I'm still here to do so.

…

“I've missed it here so much,” Kurt sighed, laying down and pulling his blanket up to his chest. “The lake. The treehouse. _You_.”

Copying Kurt and laying on my back as well, I replied quietly, “me too.”

“We haven't really spoken much lately, what have you been up to?” Kurt asked.

“Umm,” I swallowed. _Crying. Not sleeping. Trying to play the violin but getting frustrated and giving up because I can't play as well as I used to_. “Not much, really. My life has been pretty boring.”

If Kurt knew that I was lying, which I'm 99.8% sure he did, he didn't make it known.

“We got new neighbours,” Kurt piped up.

“Oh, that's cool. Are they nice?” I asked, glad for the change of subject.

“The parents are lovely, but their two daughters are a nightmare, oh my god! One of them is my age and the other a few years younger. They don't go to my school though; they go to a private girls school, which is probably why they're both such snobs,” Kurt scoffed.

“So not a potential girlfriend then?” I joked, but immediately wished I hadn't as a strange look crossed his face and he hesitated to answer.

“Oh, nooo! I would rather gouge my eyed out!”

“Surely she can't be _that_ bad?” I said in disbelief, having never heard Kurt speak so hatefully about someone before.

“Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a little. She's not that bad, but she is a pain in the butt,” Kurt laughed.

“Mum's thinking of transferring me to another school,” I said suddenly.

“Yeah?” Kurt said quietly.

“To this school not that far away from my house. It's a private, all boys school and they have a zero-tolerance for bullies policy, so Mum thinks it would be good for me,” I said, knotting my fingers together under my blankets.

Rolling onto his side and resting up on his elbow, Kurt asked, “Do you want to go?”

“I don't know.” I really didn't. “I mean, I don't want to leave my school because that would mean leaving Wes and everyone, but the school does sound good and apparently they have an awesome music program.”

“That's really great. But promise me something, if you do go...”

“I promise I won't find a new best friend there,” I sighed jokingly.

“Well, that, yes. But promise me you won't turn into a private school brat like my neighbours?!”

As that I laughed, “of course. I promise I won't become a brat; I don't even think I could if I tried.”

“You're right. You don't have it in you to be a brat,” Kurt agreed as he laughed quietly. “You know, I was thinking about trying out for the school musical this year...”

“Really? That'd be awesome!” I said excitedly.

“Yeah! I mean, I don't even know what it is yet but I like singing and I'm okay at dancing and acting and stuff, so why not?”

“You would be great!”

“Oh, I know,” Kurt said, pretending to flick his hair over his shoulder before we both broke down into a fit of giggles.

It was a few hours later, once Kurt and I had fallen asleep – Kurt peacefully and me fitfully – that I woke up in a panic, my body covered in sweat and my face in tears as I tried to fight back the images imprinted on my mind. I threw my covers off, running my hands through my hair.

“B?” I heard Kurt mumble before I let out a sob. “Blaine? Oh, Blaine. Shh, come on, it's okay. I'm here. You're okay,” he whispered as he moved close to me and wrapped his arms around my middle.

It could have just been my imagination, but as I calmed down and finally found myself drifting back to sleep, I could've sworn I felt tears against my skin where Kurt had his face buried in the back of my neck.

…

“How're you doing, bud?” Burt's voice surprised me as he sat down beside me at the table on their back porch, It was Saturday, meaning we were having lunch at Burt and Kurt's, and Mum was currently teaching Kurt how to makr her infamous fruit salad.

“Yeah, I'm alright,” I said with a shrug, looking down at my hands resting on my lap.

“You know you don't have to put on a brave face for me, right? It's okay to not be okay.”

“I'm – I'm coping,” I said, looking up to meet his eyes.

“You gave us all a pretty big scare.”

“I'm sorry,” a single tear rolling down my cheek.

“Hey, none of that. You have nothing to be sorry for, you hear me? We're all just so glad you're alright,” Burt said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Have you talked to Kurt about it?”

I shook my head and sniffled, “I didn't want to bother him with it all.”

“That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. You two are best friends, that's what best friends are for. And if you don't want to talk to him about it for your sake, maybe you should for his...”

“What do you mean?”

“When your dad called and told me what had happened, and then I had to tell Kurt – I'd never seen him that bad. I mean, there was when we lost his mum, but I was in a pretty bad way then so I guess I mustn’t have noticed it then. But he was seriously worried; I found him crying in his room every night for weeks, and I even once caught him trying to steal my credit card so he could buy himself a ticket to come and see you. I think that maybe if you talked to him about it, then you'd be able to put his heart at ease a little. Show him you _are_ okay.” I nodded slowly as I let everything Burt had told me sink in. “And it would do you some good to get everything off your chest as well; it isn't healthy to keep everything bottled up. And if you don't want to talk to Kurt then I'm always happy to listen. Just remember that.”

Wiping my eyes, I replied with a smile, “Thank you, Burt. I – I will.”

…

Ever since my talk with Burt, I noticed more and more that Kurt was trying not to bring it up. There would be times when we'd be sitting out on the pier or in the treehouse and I'd notice him staring at me with a look of anguish pained upon his face, as though it actually hurt him to hold in whatever it was he wanted to say.

Over the next week and a half, I noticed it constantly. I was starting to think that perhaps I should take Burt's advice and just _talk_ to him. However, one night as we were watching a movie up in my room after dinner, I no longer needed to.

“Do you ever wonder what our lives would be like if I hadn't approached you that day in the sandpit?” Kurt said with a general curiosity.

“I haven't really, no. Do you?”

“Of course. I mean, could you imagine it? What would I even do when I came here if I didn't know you? Hang out with Dad all the time?”

“But see, I'd like to think that regardless of whether we'd met then, we still would have met. I mean, let's put the whole _we were destined to be best friends_ thing aside, we're neighbours so we were bound to meet at some point.”

“My handwriting would be terrible, that's for sure – I only have nice handwriting from writing to you so often. And I would definitely not be as good at piano as I am now; I may not even be playing at all anymore, I only try so hard to compete with you and your prodigal musical talent...I would probably be in a really bad place. You know, I never really thanked you for what you did when my mum died...”

“I didn't do anything,” I said, feeling a blush creep up onto my cheeks.

“But you did,” Kurt emphasised, reaching out and grasping my hand in his. I opened my mouth to speak when I noticed tears well up in his eyes but Kurt began speaking again before I could get a word out. “I've thought a lot about what my life would be like without you in it these last couple of months.”

“Kurt...”

“I was so scared, I honestly thought I was going to lose you,” Kurt was speaking barely above a whisper now.

“It's fine. I'm _fine_ ,” I reassured him.

“When Dad told me that you were – you were in the hospital, I thought he was kidding, I really did. But who would play a joke as sick as that? And then when I admitted to myself that he was telling the truth – that you were in the hospital, that you were beaten up for being _gay_ , that you were literally on the brink of death – I lost it. I was so close to booking myself a train ticket to come and see you but Dad caught me trying to borrow his credit card. I could barely function after that. I spent the last three months counting down the days until I could see with my own eyes that you were alive. And here you are...” Kurt moved his hand to run his fingers softly over the fresh scar cutting through my left eyebrow.

“I'm so glad you're my best friend,” I whispered, trying to stop myself from crying.

“I'm glad you're my best friend too,” Kurt smiled. “I should probably get home, but I'll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow,” I smiled as Kurt gave me a kiss on the forehead before he left my room, trying to keep my breathing steady at the thought of once again having to face sleep.

Once again I woke up with a start. It shouldn't surprise me now; it had been happening for so long. I went about my usual routine of deep breathing but it wasn't working; I couldn't stop my tears nor the terrifying images that kept flashing through my mind.

I needed fresh air. But even after I'd snuck downstairs and out the back – stifling my gasps with my sleeve so as not to wake my parents – it still wouldn't stop. I wanted Kurt. I needed _Kurt_. But it was two in the morning and Kurt was sleeping. As I climbed the ladder up into the treehouse and curled up in the far corner, I thought about my conversation with Burt and the one I'd had with Kurt only hours earlier.

I pulled out my phone from my pocket and typed just a single word: _Kurt_.

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing; in, out, in, out, in, out. I'd hardly even noticed that time had passed when I heard footsteps and opened my eyes to see Kurt appear in the doorway.

“B,” he sobbed, and then crossed the small space between us, crouching down next to me as he pulled me into a hug.


	10. 2010

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaine: 15, Kurt: 16.

“C'mon Squirt, it'll be fun!” Cooper nagged.

“I dunno, Coop...” I said hesitantly. Ever since everything that had happened with Sadie Hawkins, I haven't exactly been the same. I'm not saying that I'm not the same person anymore – I still refuse to eat my eggs sunny side up, I still think that Harry Potter is the best thing that ever was or ever will be, I still love Summer over any other time of the year including Christmas and my birthday – but I _am_ different. I get so much more frustrated while playing the violin even though my teacher says I'm just as good now as I was before the attack, I don't like walking outside at night even if it's just to the letter box, I can't help but jump a little whenever I hear a door slam or a locker shut, I often find that the only way I can fall asleep at night is if I put my earphones in and listen to music, I feel like I'm in a constant state of sleep deprivation and the only time I haven't felt like this in the past year and a half was when I was at the lake.

But the most noticeable change is how I act around other people. I always thought of myself as a pretty outgoing guy, but ever since it happened I can't help but be nervous when I'm around other people; I don't do it intentionally, I mean, I'm still normal around Cooper and Mum and Dad and Kurt. And really, it was kind of to be expected. I hadn't gone back to school after the attack for the rest of the school year and I got so used to just being around my immediate family, and then when I did go back in September it was to a new school. And moving schools is hard enough as it is without being a nervous wreck. My first day was the hardest, obviously, but every day got a little bit better after that. I made friends who, thankfully, were in the majority of my classes and I even joined the glee club.

But that didn't stop me from being in a constant state of nervousness. At school it was manageable; at least I could sit there with my head down and just focus on what the teacher was saying. So Cooper wanting me to go to a _party_? Utterly terrifying.

“Okay, if you weren't going, what else would you be doing?”

“Probably just watching the fireworks from the pier like I do every other year,” I shrugged.

“But that was because you didn't have your awesome older brother there these last couple of years to get you into parties,” Cooper said with a nudge.

“You know how I am with people though...”

“I'll be there and I'm sure you wouldn't even have to bat an eyelash to get Kurt to come too. You two can sit by yourselves on the front porch for all I care, but just _come_! Mum worries that you don't get out enough, you know.”

“Don't bring Mum into this,” I lifted my head and glared at him. I knew Mum was worried, but that's what Mums do; they worry.

Cooper grinned, “So is that a yes?”

“Maybe. It's a maybe. I'll talk to Kurt about it,” I sighed.

“Awesome, you're going to love it, little bro. Now get your private school ass ready otherwise I'll make you walk to school.”

…

“So tell me again why Blaine and I have to come?” I heard Kurt say as I walked back into the room with two lemonades.

Passing one to Kurt as I moved to sit down on the couch next to him, I sighed, “Cooper, stop harassing him.”

Cooper feigned shock, “I am not harassing him! I'm simply informing him of our upcoming fourth of July plans.”

“Which I said I'd talk to him about. Now could you please go, you're bothering me,” I said, shooing him away.

Surprisingly, he actually did leave, muttering something along the lines of _I come down for the Summer and he doesn't even want to hang out with me_ on his way out.

“You know, I was actually looking forward to Cooper coming with us again this year. I don't know what I was thinking.”

“So what's all this talk about a party?” Kurt said as he sipped his drink. “All I got from him was _there's a party_ and _you and Blaine need to come_...”

“Coop got in touch with some of the people a little way up the lake that he was friends with when they were kids and they're throwing some big fourth of July party. Coop is insisting that we come and I said I'd talk to you about it but I guess _some people just don't know how to be patient_!” I said, intentionally raising my voice at the end, knowing that Cooper was most likely hanging just around the corner somewhere. I must have been correct because it was just moments later that we heard a grunt and the back door swing open and then closed.

Laughing quietly, Kurt said, “So why does he want us to come so much? Is it because he broke up with Eloise and he doesn't want to go alone?”

Eloise was Cooper's girlfriend of about a year until two months ago when he found out she was sleeping with other people – yes, as in _multiple_. Apparently she didn't realise that they were exclusive so she didn't think it was a problem. Coop was a bit cut up about it at first but he seems fine now.

“Yeah, I dunno. I hadn't actually thought of that, so maybe. But I think it's because he wants me to get out more, at least that's what he said. He's probably right. I mean, I haven't exactly been the most sociable person since the attack; people aren't missing out on too much, I guess...”

“Hey!” Kurt said, hitting me softly in the arm. “Don't speak about my best friend like that. You've been plenty sociable. You made heaps of friends at your new school – who wouldn't be your friends _if they didn't want to be_ – and you joined the glee club. Speaking of which, I'm offended. You never told me you could sing well enough to be in a _glee club_?”

…

It had taken a lot of cleaning and a lot of duct tape and other various materials, but it was a success; we had finally finished repairing our old kayak. In the years since we had first got it, it had been through quite a lot; with multiple scratches and dints and even one hole as a result of hitting a particularly sharp rock. I guess you could say Kurt and I weren't the best kayakers, but we had improved a little. Stepping back and looking at our handy work, I brushed my hands off on my shorts. It was as good as new; well, almost.

“I have to say, this is definitely not as roomy as it used to be,” Kurt said, shifting his legs as we pushed off with our oars.

“That's probably because you've grown a mile in the last year.” I wasn't exaggerating. Okay, maybe a little, but I actually had to stand up on my tippy-toes to hug him hello this year.

“Aww, it's alright, B. Your time will come,” Kurt replied with a chuckle. “Okay, lets get down to business. The party.”

After a moment of silence, I said, “Do you want to go?”

“I don't care either way. If you want to go, I'll go. But if you don't, then we'll just have our own party with the two of us.”

“I don't know...” I sighed, paddling left to correct ourselves a little.

“Okay, we're gonna make a list of pros and cons,” Kurt piped up. “We'll start with the pros... go!”

Chewing on my lip as I thought, I finally said, “Umm, I'd get to hang out with Cooper, which I don't get to do that much anymore. I'd get to hang out with you, but I get to do that either way so that doesn't really count. There'll be music and dancing which is always fun. And I guess it would be good to get out and be more social.”

“Hanging out with Cooper? Yes. Hanging out with me? Like you said, you get to either way, but let's count it anyway. Dancing? Dancing is always a yes. And being more social is definitely a yes. Okay, now the cons.”

“Well, we won't get to have our annual sit-on-the-pier-and-watch-the-fireworks night complete with Cheetos and apple juice. Cooper probably won't hang out with us at all, which I guess doesn't bother me all that much; Cooper is so annoying when he's drunk. And...umm...the thought of being surrounded by a massive group of strangers kind of – it terrifies me...” I was glad that I was sitting at the front then, because that meant that Kurt couldn't see me as my eyes filled with tears.

I felt a hand reach out and squeeze my hand comfortingly as Kurt said quietly, “B...you don't have to be scared. I know what those assholes did to you was absolutely horrifying and disgusting, but you shouldn't let them rule your life. You should be able to go to a party and not be terrified of being around strangers. No one is going to hurt you, I won't let them.”

“You promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Kurt said. “So, is that a yes?”

Smiling a teary smile, I replied, “Yes. Okay. We'll go to the party.”

“It'll be so much fun, you'll see.”

“Remind me to hug you when we get back to shore.”

…

I was laying on my bed unsuccessfully trying to work on my English homework – damn high school, giving us homework on the holidays – when I heard my phone buzz with a new message from my bedside table. Putting my pen in between my pages and closing my book, I army-rolled across my bed; rolling a little too far and nearly rolling off my bed entirely. I smiled when I saw that it was a message from Kurt.

_Can you come over? I'm having a crisis._

I figured that the crisis couldn't have been all that bad otherwise there would have been an 'asap' in there or he would have just called me, but any excuse not to do homework is a good excuse so I packed up my things and put shoes on.

“I'm going to Kurt's,” I called into the kitchen, receiving a simple _okay_ before I walked out the door.

I let myself into Kurt's as I always do, saying hi to Burt on the way through.

“Okay, what's the crisis?” I called out as I walked down the hallway and into Kurt's room, stopping once I reached the doorway.

Sitting in the middle of his bed, the rest of his room covered in clothes strewn across almost every surface, was Kurt. And the look on his face was nothing if not pained.

“Wow...” I whispered.

“I don't know what to wear tomorrow,” Kurt sighed, looking around at all the mess before falling back onto his bed and shielding his eyes with his arms.

Honestly, I hadn't even thought about what I was going to wear. I'd probably just pick out a pair of shorts and one of my nicer shirts that weren't crumpled on the floor and hope that they matched. And maybe I'd add a bow tie.

“Umm, do you have any ideas?”

And that's how I spent the next hour picking out clothes from his wardrobe – and his floor – and holding each one up to gain his approval. Eventually he decided on an outfit he thought appropriate enough to show the rest of the world. And wow, when I'd helped him pick it out it was with the intention of making him look good, but I hadn't expected it to look _that_ good.

“I don't know whether I'm cut out to be gay after all,” I said as I collapsed on his bed.

I could see the shock and confusion hit him as soon as the words had left my mouth. “What do you mean?”

“Fashion is just so _exhausting_!”

It took me five minutes before I could get him to stop laughing.

…

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” Kurt asked as we walked to Cooper's friends house, keeping well behind Cooper who was walking with a beer in his hand and singing at the top of his lungs.

“Yeah, I'm sure,” I said with a smile.

“Okay, but remember, if you start to feel uncomfortable just tell me and we can leave. I made sure that Dad got apple juice and Cheetos just in case.”

“You are without a doubt the best best friend.”

“Come on, you two. You're walking so slow that the party will be over before we even get there!” Cooper called from in front of us.

We started to hear the music before we could even see the house and the closer we got the more nervous I became. By the time we actually made it to the house, which honestly wasn't that far, my hands were visibly shaking. There were so many people. Surprisingly most of them seemed to be around mine and Kurt's age, maybe a little older, but there was a reasonably large group of people who looked to be Cooper's age so I'm assuming that they were his friends. The last time I'd been around so many people that wasn't a school assembly was Sadie Hawkins...

I was shocked out of my thoughts by someone squeezing my hand; Kurt.

“Remember. Just say Cheetos and we're out of here,” he said before making his way through the crowd of people, pulling me along behind him.

And it was actually quite fun. I'd gotten myself so hyped up about coming and it seemed it was all for nothing. The music was actually semi-decent and Kurt and I spent most of the night dancing like idiots. We bumped into Cooper a couple of times and as we had predicted, he was very much drunk. He made sure to introduce us to all of his friends, but they were just as drunk as he was so there wasn't really much point. Cooper seemed pleased with himself though. Time went surprisingly fast. We chatted to a few people; some who I recognised from in town and others who I'd never met before. Kurt seemed to be enjoying himself; after all, he is very much a people person.

“Do you want another drink?” Kurt said closely to my ear.

I looked down and saw that my lemonade was empty, so nodded to him with a smile.

“Okay, stay right here,” Kurt took my cup and wandered back through the crowd.

I did as he said and stayed where I was, bopping along awkwardly to the music. I was watching two particularly drunk people who were dancing without a care in the world, when someone bumped into me from behind, pushing me into a girl standing just in front of me.

“I-I'm sorry,” I tried to say over the loud music but I don't think she heard me – either that or she did and chose not to accept my apology – because she glared at me before walking off, purposely shoving me with her shoulder as she passed.

It was like a cascade of events from then on that I couldn't keep up with. Her bumping me caused me to stumble back into another person and soon enough I was in the middle of a group of people who were all dancing too enthusiastically and were all too tall and all too close. I looked around for Kurt but I couldn't see him. My breathing became heavy as I tried to make my way out of the crowd, everything becoming too overwhelming all of a sudden. I tried to free my arm as someone grabbed onto my wrist but their grasp only tightened. I was just about to turn around and ask them to _please let go of me_ when they stepped closer, their lips brushing against my ear as they said, “Blaine? You okay?” It was Kurt. It was only Kurt. “Cheetos?”

I couldn't answer back, too out of breath, but Kurt must have guessed as much because he began leading me away from the crowd and away from the music. Once we were outside and I felt like I could breathe again, I leant against a tree, resting the back of my head against it.

“I don't even know what happened,” I said eventually.

“I'm sorry I left you,” Kurt mumbled quietly.

I looked across at him and could see the guilt written across his face. “No. No no no, you don't have to be sorry. The people and the music, it all just got a little too much for me.”

“C'mon, we still have enough time to get back to the pier before the fireworks start,” Kurt said, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

“Wait, what about Cooper?” I stopped suddenly.

“Oh, I bumped into him while I was getting our drinks. He's going to stay here the night, thank god, I was not looking forward to dragging him home in that state,” Kurt said, nudging me in the direction of the pier.

We walked in silence as we made our way back to our houses, but I couldn't keep my mind from whirring. My skin felt like it was burning wherever it touched Kurt and I couldn't help but to think back to when we were dancing earlier; the way he laughed and shook his head whenever we danced particularly badly, how his lips had brushed my ear whenever he said anything to me, how stunning he had looked...

We must have walked slower than we'd thought because by the time we made it to the pier, it was only a few minutes before the fireworks were due to start. The lights were on at my house which surprised me, even though Burt came over every year they always seemed to crash and go to bed early, effectively missing the fireworks.

“We'll get the Cheetos and apple juice after the fireworks, I don't want to miss them,” Kurt said happily as he sat down at the end of the pier, hanging his legs off the edge.

I sat down beside him, taking my shoes off even though the pier was too high for my feet to reach the water.

When the first fireworks went up, all in red, white and blue, I found myself for the first time in my life not watching them but instead watching Kurt. The second they started, Kurt's face broke into a grin as he looked on in awe; and the only word that came to my mind in that moment was beautiful.

“What?” Kurt said, turning to me with his smile still plastered firmly on his lips. I barely registered that I must have said that out loud because my mind was too preoccupied yelling and screaming and shouting at me _what the hell do you think you're doing_ but even that I could hardly hear.

I don't know what I was thinking. I don't know what it was that pushed me over the edge but something certainly did because before I could even register what I was doing I was leaning in towards him. I caught a glimpse of a questioning look in Kurt's eyes before mine fell shut and then my lips were against his. I drowned out thoughts of _stop_ and _he's your best friend_ and _you're going to ruin everything_ as I pressed closer, bringing a hand up to wrap around the back of his neck. It dawned on me then that Kurt was not moving and I was just about to pull back when Kurt relaxed against me and wrapped a hand tightly around my bicep. In that moment he was not Kurt my best friend but just Kurt and all I knew was that I just had to keep kissing him. His breath was heavy against mine as we pulled apart, keeping our heads close. We stayed there for a moment, neither of us moving and neither of us speaking, as I found myself having to catch my breath for the second time that night. And that's when it hit me; I'd just kissed my best friend, my best friend who _isn't even gay_!

“Oh my god,” I gasped, pulling away as if I'd been electrocuted. I glanced into Kurt's eyes briefly and saw confusion and – was that hurt? - before I was on my feet, rambling. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, oh my god, I'm gonna go. I'm sorry, I just...” and then I was walking in the opposite direction from where I really wanted to be and back to my house, not even bothering to say hi to my parents as I practically ran past them and shut myself in my room.

…

For the first time I could ever remember, I was actually glad to be leaving the lake. I hadn't seen Kurt at all since yesterday, nor had I texted him which I know was wrong but I just couldn't. I gave him a quick hug before I got in our car to leave so as not to make our parents suspicious – though I'm sure they probably already were – and that was it.

I beat myself up about it the entire way home, thankful that Cooper was too hungover to ask me questions.

I'd screwed everything up; but why did it feel so right?


	11. 2011

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaine: 16, Kurt: 17.

I think what bothered me the most about it all was that he was so blatantly pretending that nothing had happened. I just assumed that he hadn't mentioned it at all throughout the year because it was kind of massive and he either didn't want to talk about it, or end our friendship, over the phone. Which I'm glad for; nine years of friendship at least deserves to be ended face-to-face. And even though I know that this most likely was not the case and he probably just wanted to let me down easy once we saw each other again, I couldn't help but beat myself up about it. And in my opinion, I very much deserved it.

What the hell had I been thinking? Kurt has been my best friend for as long as I can remember; when I saw him last Summer, he'd grown and he'd changed his hair and it dawned on me that _damn, my best friend is ridiculously attractive_. But just because you find someone attractive doesn't mean you have to attack them like I'd done to Kurt, and more importantly, it doesn't mean that you _should_. Unfortunately that knowledge didn't come to me until _after_ I'd potentially ruined the most important friendship in my life.

I figured that when we came back this Summer that things would be weird and Kurt would ignore me until he said _we need to talk_ and then I'd try to hold back my tears while he told me that I'd crossed a line that I shouldn't have. I guess I could handle that; before I'd transferred schools I'd gotten quite skilled at holding back my tears while people taunted me and called me names, not letting them fall until I was safely locked away in my room that night. The same principle applied here.

However, in the end, it didn't matter because things weren't weird and Kurt wrapped me in a giant hug just as he did every year and he was chatting to me about how he was going to try out for his school's glee club when school went back and if that went well then maybe even the school musical. There was no awkwardness and there were no uncomfortable silences. Everything was so normal and somehow that frustrated me even more. It was ridiculous. I should have been relieved that Kurt had seemingly forgotten about it and that I wouldn't have to deal with all the questions of _why_. So it didn't make sense that I wasn't relieved, even more so that I was annoyed, but I was. Why?

_Because I didn't regret it._

Okay, perhaps at first I regretted it a little, especially the timing and spontaneity of it. However, as I lay awake night after night still without any contact from Kurt, I realised that I really didn't regret it; not in the slightest. Yes, it was unconventional and yes, it probably would have been more appropriate had I given Kurt some warning, but it was amazing and I desperately wanted to do it again. I'd spoken to Wes about it – I didn't tell him it was Kurt, obviously, I just said it was a _friend_ – and he said it was probably just the kiss itself, not who it was with. But for some reason I have a feeling that it was because of who it was with that made it so amazing; which leaves me with a dilemma...

Kurt is not gay.

Kurt is not gay and I'm falling for him. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

...

“Okay, I need your help,” Kurt said as he walked into my room unannounced one afternoon.

I was sitting at my desk, wearing an old pair of tracksuit pants and a plain white t-shirt, doing my holiday homework. I don't know why – and don't bother telling me its ridiculous, I've told myself that a thousand times – but I felt kind of self-conscious having been caught here in clothes that normally wouldn't see the light of day. And by Kurt; Kurt who was dressed immaculately in denim shorts and a button down shirt. Kurt who had seen me in much much worse throughout the years.

Kurt who had collapsed face down in the middle of my bed.

Putting a pen in between the pages of my textbook and pushing it aside, I got up off my chair and walked over to my bed. I laid down on my stomach beside him, my head turned so I was looking at him, his face buried in my comforter. It was only a moment or so later when he lifted his head and turned to look at me, a frown on his face as he sighed.

“What's your favourite song right now?” Kurt asked suddenly. Okay, not what I had been expecting.

“Umm, well there's this one song that Olivia gave to me to practice this Summer and the melody is really beautiful-”

“A song that I can _sing_. So I'm afraid your violin homework isn't going to be too helpful,” Kurt interrupted, an apologetic smile on his lips.

“This is about auditioning for glee club, isn't it?” I asked quietly, watching his Adam's apple bob as he noticeably swallowed before nodding. “Well, in that case, my favourite song is currently _Teenage Dream_ by the amazingly talented Katy Perry.”

“Of course that's your favourite song,” Kurt laughed. “I just don't know. I really want to make a good first impression, you know? And I've been trying to think of a song that really shows off my talent but none of them feel _right_ and god it's so frustrating!”

Pushing up on my elbows, I moved into a sitting position before practically jumping off my bed, picking up my iPod from where it was sitting on my desk and scrolling through my music. “Regardless of what song you sing, your voice is amazing so it really shouldn't matter. What sort of song were you thinking? Pop or broadway? Top 40 or a classic? Upbeat or slow?”

“What did you audition with?”

I glanced up from my iPod to raise an eyebrow at him, my voice serious as I said, “Okay. Think about that question, then think back about five minutes, and then reevaluate whether or not you need to ask that question.”

“Never mind. Stupid question, forget I asked.”

…

This Summer was disappointingly cold compared to every other year, which is quite problematic when you spend your whole Summer at a lake spending a large chunk of your time doing water-based activities. While Kurt and I would normally spend a lot of time swimming or using the kayak, the water was significantly colder than what would be considered comfortable and so we had to find other ways to occupy ourselves. But after a week of hanging around our houses and up in the treehouse, both of us actively ignoring the giant elephant in the room which should really be making things much more awkward than it was, we _needed_ to do something that didn't involve books or a deck of cards. Which is how Kurt and I found ourselves at the annual – though neither of us had ever heard of it – Lakeside Arts and Crafts Fair.

“How is it that we've been staying here every Summer for a decade and have never heard of this?” I asked as we walked up and down the rows of tables stacked with fabrics and beads and jewellery.

“Because neither of us are at all interested in arts and craft?” Kurt suggested, smiling.

“That would probably be why. You like fashion though?”

“Fashion and 'arts and crafts' are two entirely different things. For example, even if I were to buy every single item here that is for sale, I would not be able to put together an outfit that I would willingly wear out in public,” Kurt said in a hushed voice.

“Hmm, yeah. I see what you mean. This is actually kind of terrible, isn't it?” I said, unable to help myself from laughing.

“It's not one of our best ideas. Did you want to get out of here?”

“Let's at least get lunch so today wasn't a total waste of time,” I said as I eyed off a burger stand in the next row; Kurt nodded and we walked over to the stand, and it was a good thing we felt like burgers because it was the only food stand in the whole place.

“Hey, we got away from the houses so not a waste of time at all. I swear I was going to go crazy if I didn't get out of there,” Kurt chuckled as he paid for our burgers, swatting my hand away when I moved to pull my wallet from my pocket.

We found an empty patch of grass just off to the side and sat down to eat. And oh my god, the burgers were freaking amazing.

“I don't care how shit this place is, this burger makes up for _everything_!” I said with a mouth full of food.

“Gross,” Kurt said, screwing up his face with fake disgust. His face softened as he leant across to wipe a drop of sauce from my chin with the pad of his thumb, wiping his hand on the grass before saying, “You're right though, these burgers are amazing.”

We sat in silence while we finished eating, leaving our rubbish in a neat pile between us.

“So I was thinking about your audition. What about The Beatles? One, because you can't go wrong with The Beatles, and two, there are literally so many to choose from,” I said enthusiastically. “Or if you wanted to go down the Broadway path, definitely something from Wicked, no question about it. Once again, you can't go wrong with Wicked.”

“I was contemplating them but they just feel so overdone. I mean, obviously regardless of what song I pick it won't be completely original, but I want to do something they won't expect,” Kurt said, chewing on his bottom lip.

Standing up and brushing off the back of my pants, I held out a hand for Kurt. “Let's just get in the car and drive around aimlessly listening to music until we find the perfect one?”

“Okay,” Kurt said after a moment, reaching up to take my hand, pulling himself to his feet. We got rid off our rubbish before walking back to the car; I climbed into the passenger seat while Kurt got into the driver's seat. “Have you started driving yet?”

“I've got my learner's permit but I haven't actually been driving yet. Cooper's off doing whatever he's doing, Mum's always got stuff on and Dad, well, he's always at work these days.”

“They're still fighting?” Kurt asked sadly.

I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. They're never really home at the same time _to_ fight, but they make up for it whenever they are.”

“I'm sorry... You know what? We're not going to decide on my song today, that can wait. _Today_ we are going to teach you how to drive,” Kurt said, a bright smile on his face as he turned on the ignition and pulled out of the makeshift car park.

“Wait, what?”

“We're going to find a field or an abandoned car park or _something_ and _you_ are going to learn how to drive!”

It turns out there are not many – and when I say not many, I mean none – abandoned car parks out here. We did, however, manage to find what looked to be an old wheat field, the crops having long since died.

“Okay, out you hop. Swap sides,” Kurt said excitedly, putting the car in park and jumping from his seat, practically skipping as he moved around to open my door.

I felt irrationally nervous as I unbuckled my seat belt and climbed over the centre console to sit in the driver's seat. I buckled myself in and gripped the steering wheel with shaking hands as I turned to look at Kurt, “You do realise I've never ever driven a car before?”

“I do, hence the _teaching you how to drive_ ,” Kurt laughed. “Okay, now the first thing you have to know...”

After nearly an hour, I really wished that Burt's car was automatic because _damn_ , driving manual is really freaking hard. I was also ridiculously grateful that it was Kurt who was teaching me, because Mum gets stressed so easily and Dad is certainly not known for his patience and I am really, really bad at this.

“Okay, put it back into park and we'll try again,” Kurt said after I'd stalled for what was probably the hundredth time.

“How are you so patient? I'm about ready to pull my own hair out,” I grumbled, resting my head on the steering wheel.

I looked up when I felt fingers running through my hair.

“You're just learning. You'll get the hang of it soon enough,” Kurt smiled.

“I haven't moved more than three metres without stalling,” I said flatly.

“Just – it's like learning a new song on the violin. No, just hear me out. The only thing you're having trouble with is the clutch. The clutch is like the strings; you just have to figure out the right amount of pressure. As soon as you get that right, then you'll be amazing.”

“You're amazing, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know. C'mon, let's try again.”

My renewed excitement was flattened after I once again stalled; and again, and again.

“Okay, now release the clutch...slowly...yes! Blaine, you're doing it! You're driving!”

“I did it, Kurt! I'm driving! I'm driving a car!” I practically screamed. However, with the excitement of finally getting it right, I lost all concentration and stalled it again just a moment later. “Well, I _was_ driving...”

“You were great!” The smile on Kurt's face immediately diminished any disappointment I felt, the pure joy on his face enough to make my heart melt.

…

I heard the piano before I heard the singing.

It was Sunday morning and Burt had already been over at our house for a couple of hours. Insisting that Kurt slept in too late, Burt had sent me over to wake Kurt up and bring him back to have breakfast before they packed up the barbecue. However, there was no need to wake Kurt, if the music drifting through the house was any indication. I toed of my shoes next to the front door and walked down the hall to where I knew the piano was. As I got closer I could hear his voice more clearly. I paused when I rounded the corner, Kurt's back to me, and I caught him just as he moved into the bridge.

_You can take everything I have._

_You can break everything I am._

_Like I'm made of glass, like I'm made of paper._

In all the years I'd known him, I'd never heard Kurt sing like that. It made my heart ache, and made it swell all the same, to see him sing with such emotion, like the words he was singing actually pained him.

_Go on and try to tear me down._

_I will be rising from the ground._

_Like a skyscraper, like a skyscraper._

Kurt played out the rest of the melody before the room went quiet.

“If you don't sing that song for your audition, I am going to drive to your school myself and shake you until you realise how stupid you are,” I said, barely above a whisper but it was enough.

Kurt startled at my voice, turning in his seat, his eyes meeting mine instantly.

“You make is sound like you driving to see me is a bad thing.”

“That was amazing,” I said, feeling slightly out of breath.

A small blush crept up his face, ducking his head as he asked timidly, “really?”

And in that moment, falling for my best friend was no longer an issue; because you can't fall if you've already hit the ground.

“Really.”

...

We were laying on Kurt's couch marathoning episodes of Friends, Burt over at my house having lunch with my parents. Well, Kurt was watching Friends and I was mostly watching him, enjoying seeing his face light up at funny one-liners. But after a while I began to feel edgy, the proximity and closeness of how we were sitting getting to be too much, the silent weight of everything that had been left unsaid suffocating me.

“I'm sorry,” I huffed, equally angered and exasperated as I untangled my legs from Kurt's where they'd tangled together, standing up from the couch and walking out of the room.

“B?” Kurt asked timidly from the kitchen doorway less than a minute later. I ran my hands through my hair as I filled a glass with water. “What the matter?”

I shook my head as I downed my water and moved to refill my glass again.

“Have I done something wrong?”

“Have you done something _wrong_?” I laughed incredulously. I turned to look at Kurt and immediately felt a nagging of guilt inside my chest at the look of confusion on his face. “Kurt, you haven't done anything.”

“Then why are you acting like this?”

“ _Because_ you haven't done anything!” I hated raising my voice at him. I rarely did, and on the rare occasion that it got that far, it was a sign that I needed to calm down. But no, not today. I had to get this off my chest and if yelling at Kurt was the only way to get through to him, then so be it.

“I don't – what do you mean? Talk to me,” he said, taking a step into the room.

“You know exactly what I mean. You know it and I know it.”

And in that instant Kurt's entire demeanour changed. I saw the guilt in his eyes the moment it hit him. His defensive stance softened and he looked at me pleadingly, as if willing me to stop, to not make him do this. It was in that instant that I knew that Kurt knew exactly what I was talking about.

“You've done absolutely _nothing_. Not just the past few weeks but this entire year. Not a word. Not even the slightest acknowledgement of what happened.”

“I'm sorry,” Kurt whispered.

“A simple _let's just forget about it, B_ would have been enough. Just something to stop me from going crazy.”

“I couldn't. I _can't_.”

“But _why_?” I said, practically on the verge of tears now, the prickling behind my eyes growing.

“Because if I don't say anything, I can just pretend it never happened. But saying something makes it real and that downright terrifies me!”

I was taken aback at that. Terrified? I didn't even need to ask why before he spoke again.

“My god, B. You're my best friend. You're my best friend and you _kissed_ me and I kissed you back and having to watch you walk away near broke me in half.”

“I don't understand...”

“Do I need to spell it out for you?! _I wanted you to kiss me!_ I've wanted you to for I don't even know how long and then you walked away and we didn't speak about it for an entire _year_. I just – ugh!” and with that, Kurt turned on his heel and left the room, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration as he did.

“No. No, no, no, no, no. You don't get to say that and then leave the room,” I said hurriedly, practically throwing my empty glass in the sink as I followed after him.

By the time I made it to the hall, he was already halfway to his room. “You're not gay,” I said simply.

“What?!” Kurt said incredulously, unable to stop the laugh that escaped him as he turned to look at me.

“You're not gay,” I repeated.

Sighing and running a hand through his hair, Kurt said, “Did you not hear a word I just said?”

“Yeah, but – you're not – I,” I tried to speak, my eyebrows furrowed, but couldn't manage to string together more than two words.

“I'm gay!” Kurt said, interrupting me before I could continue rambling.

“But you never said...”

“I though it was obvious,” Kurt said with a shrug, suddenly looking nervous, his hands fidgeting.

“Okay, woah. Sorry, I just – I need a minute to process,” I stepped back until I was leaning against the wall opposite Kurt, letting my head fall back, thudding quietly against the plaster. _Kurt is gay, Kurt is gay, Kurt is gay._

I allowed my eyes to drift shut as I took a deep breath, before I pushed myself from the wall suddenly and crossed the space separating us with three steps. I felt more than heard Kurt gasp as I threaded my hands into his hair and roughly pulled his lips to mine as if our lives depended on it; and they quite possibly did because I'm pretty sure I would have exploded if I'd had to spend another moment not kissing him.

Kurt pulled back first, laughter escaping him as he did. “That was nowhere near a minute.”

“Fast processing,” I said, unable to tear my eyes from his lips. “Turns out my brain can be pretty speedy when I get to do this.” And with that, I kissed him again and god, the kiss we shared last year was nothing compared to this.

…

“We really do have the worst timing,” Kurt sighed, throwing his duffel bag into the back seat of Burt's car.

“Hm?”

Walking back up to the house, me following just behind him, Kurt said, “we finally figure all of this – this _stuff_ between us out, and then I have to leave two days later.”

I leant back against the door frame once we reached Kurt's room, Kurt gathering together the last of his things. “Yes, we should work on improving that.”

Kurt zipped up his backpack and slipped his arms through the straps, and then he was standing just centimetres away from me, so close that I could count every one of his freckles if I had the time. Which we didn't.

“I hate that you have to go.”

Kurt lifted his hand up to cup my cheek, his thumb rubbing along my jaw, as he said, “Me too. I'll see you soon though.”

“One year is not soon,” I grumbled.

“Even tomorrow wouldn't be soon enough,” Kurt whispered, bringing his lips to mine; kissing me one once, twice, and a then third time.

“Kurt! Are you ready to go?” Burt's called from downstairs, startling us both.

“Yeah!” Kurt called back, before saying more quietly, just to me, “soon.”

He gave me one more soft, lingering kiss before he pulled away, grasping my hand tightly in his.

We walked downstairs like that, only letting go as we stepped out the front door; my hand tingling from where Kurt's fingers had run softly over my palm as he'd let go.

I was sitting on the couch about five minutes after Kurt had left when my phone buzzed with a new message.

_Dad just asked me if we finally got our shit together..._

_No way!_

_Yup, apparently we've both been quite oblivious._

I was in the midst of typing a reply when another message buzzed through.

_I miss you already._

I smiled to myself, erasing my previous message and typing out another.

_Me too xx._


	12. 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaine: 17, Kurt: 18.

It had been a really long year. If I'd thought that the year apart went slowly when Kurt and I were just friends, it was _nothing_ compared to how slow it went now that we were dating. We Skyped, we texted, we talked on the phone – but it's not the same. I missed being able to glance over at him while we were watching a movie and seeing his face light up when he laughed, I missed laying side by side in the tree house talking in whispers even though we didn't need to keep quiet, I missed kissing him, I missed hugging him, I just missed _him_.

However, this year did have an upside. And that upside was regionals.

We were set to perform first, which I was extremely thankful for. I've never really been an overly nervous person but god, my hands were shaking something crazy while we were waiting side stage, the audience going quiet as the host came out on stage. However, just like with my violin exams, the moment I got on that stage and the lights shone down on my face, all traces of nerves vanished. And I sang my heart, unable to keep the smile off my face as the audience applauded and we moved off stage, the next group taking the stage a minute later. We managed to make it around to the foyer before their set was over, sneaking into the audience between the second and third number, sitting in the seats reserved for competing schools. The music picked up again while we all exchanged hi-fives and whispers of _good job_ between us. It wasn't until they reached the chorus that I looked up. I had a moment to think _wow, they're actually really good_ before my entire body froze.

No fucking way.

I don't know why I hadn't connected the dots before; in my defence, I'd never actually read the names of the other schools, but I'd known the general areas they were from so that should've been clue enough. He had mentioned that they had their competition coming up and he was really nervous because he was still convinced that they'd only won at their sectionals out of default; but I'd heard them sing before from the few short clips he'd sent me and they were _really_ good. Perhaps I didn't put two and two together because of my own nerves, this being the first competition that I was singing solo at; and as honoured as I was, that's a hell of a lot of pressure.

The instant the song finished and the lights went down, I was out of my chair, whispering _sorry, oops, sorry sorry sorry_ as I accidentally stepped on people's toes and nearly fell into a freshman's lap. I quickly jogged up the stairs and burst into the foyer...only to find it empty. I looked left, then right, and then left again, my brain having lost all ability to function as I tries to remember which direction the dressing rooms were. I leant back against a wall, trying to retrace my steps from earlier – _okay, we came out of our dressing room and turned right at the end of the corridor_ – when I heard a buzz of excited voices getting louder, getting closer. And there they were, all too busy in conversation to even notice I was there.

Thinking about it now, I probably should have said something first so as not to seem so _I'm a murderer trying to kidnap you_ but he was right there and I hadn't seem him in five months and my first instinct was to reach out and grab him by the wrist.

He let out a high-pitched squeal in surprise, spinning to face me to find out who had grabbed him, but it only took him a few seconds before he screamed out excitedly and threw himself at me, arms wrapping around my shoulders as he jumped up and down on the spot. He pulled back, placing his hands on either side of my face, asking “what the hell are you doing here?” but not before gesturing to the rest of his glee club, who were all staring at us in confusion, to go on without him.

“Regionals. I didn't – I knew you had yours coming up but – how freaking crazy is this?!” I tried to say but I couldn't form whole sentences because Kurt was _here_ ; Kurt was standing right in front of me and his hands were on my face and his smile was so beautiful and Skype did not do him justice in the slightest.

There were so many things I wanted to tell him – I wanted to tell him that he looked absolutely stunning and that his performance was amazing even though I only saw the last song and that if they didn't win then there was something seriously wrong and that I'd missed him, god I'd missed him so much – but before I could get another word out Kurt was kissing me and yes, this was much better than talking. I brought my hands up to his arms, holding on tightly to steady myself.

_How have I survived five months without doing this?_

I shook my head when Kurt started to move back, bringing a hand behind his neck to pull him back to me.

“I've missed you so much,” Kurt mumbled against my lips.

I pulled away slowly, moving to kiss him just below his ear as I wrapped my arms around his waist. “I've missed you too. _So much_.”

Leaning back so I could see him, Kurt brought his hand up to my face, tracing my lips with his thumb before moving to run a hand over my hair.

“Don't ever start wearing your hair like this permanently,” Kurt said with a laugh, twining our hands together between us.

“What?!” I said, feigning shock. “You don't like my hair?”

“I don't like that I can't run my hands through it,” he said pointedly.

“You won't let me touch yours either,” I protested.

“Yes, but that's because I won't let you. Not because it's physically impossible. Although, I do admit that it does make you look very dapper. With the hair, and the tie, and the blazer...” Kurt trailed off, a look in his eye that was quick becoming my favourite.

“Kurt?” a loud and excited voice said as a short brunette slipped out from the auditorium doors. “We have to go on for judging in a minute.”

Closing his eyes and exhaling, Kurt replied, “Yeah, Rachel. Just give me a second.”

The girl – Rachel – stood there with a large smile on her face for a few moments before obviously getting the picture and retreating back into the auditorium.

“Meet me back here after the results?”

“Okay. I won't be able to stay for long though, we have a long bus ride back,” I said sadly.

Kurt nodded, leaning close to kiss me once more. “Good luck! I'll see you up there.”

It seemed like we stood up on that stage for forever waiting for the results, and I couldn't even be disappointed that we didn't win because the pure excitement on Kurt's face when it was announced that they'd placed first warmed me from head to toe and I wanted nothing more than to see him happy.

_“The bus is leaving in five minutes! Don't miss it or you're walking home!”_

There were far more people in the foyer now than when we were out here before, so it took me a few minutes to spot him amongst the crowd.

“I'll be back in a minute,” I said to Nick before I half-jogged across the room to envelop Kurt in a hug. “Congratulations!”

“I'm sorry you didn't win,” Kurt said sheepishly, but I could tell that he was trying to hold back his excitement.

“Don't be ridiculous. You guys were amazing and 100% deserved to win,” I said. “I wish I didn't have to wait so long to see you again.”

Kurt smiled sadly, “Me too. But June isn't that far away. Well it kind of is when I don't get to see you, but it'll be here before we know it, or so Dad keeps telling me.”

_“Warblers, we're leaving!”_

“Skype tonight?” Kurt asked quickly.

“Of course. Is nine o'clock good for you?”

“Nine o'clock is perfect.”

“I can't wait!” I said. I gave him a quick peck on the lips, hyper aware of the fact that we were surrounded by a lot of people, squeezing his hand before running off to join the Warblers.

I got a window seat on the bus and was watching the theatre disappear as we pulled out of the car park when Nick turned around in his seat in front of me and asked, “So that was Kurt, huh?”

I didn't need to reply; my smile was indication enough.

…

“Catch!” I called as I threw a pillow up the ladder, Kurt only just catching it by the corner.

“That was weak,” he called back, throwing the pillow into the treehouse.

“That was not weak!” I picked up the sleeping bag from the ground next to me and threw it as hard as I could considering I was throwing it up more than twice my height.

“Hey! You nearly hit me in the face with that!”

I put on my most innocent face and shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly. “I was just showing you how weak my throwing is _not_.”

At that, Kurt stuck his tongue out at me, and god, if that wasn't the cutest thing ever.

“Hey, Blaine? Can I talk with you for a second?” Burt said, appearing out of nowhere, startling me.

 _Talk with me?_ I looked up at Kurt with alarmed eyes and when he looked back at me, he actually looked kind of nervous.

“ _Dad..._ ” Kurt said, and the way that he said it – like a warning – made me think that perhaps Kurt knew what this was about. That, coupled with the fact that he looked nervous – well, let's just say that I was pretty damn nervous myself.

“I'll just be a minute. You can have him back after that,” Burt said up at Kurt pointedly, before walking back towards their house.

I gave Kurt a nervous smile before following him, wiping my now sweaty hands on my khaki shorts.

“I'm not gonna yell at you or anything, so quit looking so nervous,” Burt said once we were far enough away from the treehouse that Kurt wouldn't be able to hear us.

“Sorry – I just...”

“Okay, look. I know that you and Kurt are – you know – _together_ now. And I'm over the moon for you two – I've never seen Kurt as happy as when he's with you or talking about you and I can't think of anyone I'd rather him be with. You're a good kid, Blaine. And you're just as much my kid as Kurt is, and I've talked to him about this so I need to talk to you about it too.” Burt cleared his throat and I felt my cheeks go warm as I was pretty sure I knew what was coming. “Soon enough, you and Kurt are going to want to – uh – be intimate.” Yup, I knew it. “I know that you two have been best friends for forever and that you really care about each other, but I just need you to know that you don't have to go jumping into anything you don't want because you think that you have to or because Kurt's pressuring you or anything – if he does, you come and tell me. I don't care that he's my kid, I'll put him back into his place. 'Cause you matter, okay? And don't let anyone else make you think otherwise.” Burt's hands were on my shoulders and the way that he was looking at me – so serious that I could tell he actually cared – was enough that I didn't even feel embarrassed when I felt a tear fall onto my cheek.

“Thank you,” I said only just above a whisper, not trusting my voice to not break if I spoke any louder. “That really means a lot.”

There was a look in his eye that I couldn't quite place – anger, disbelief maybe – and he was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Your dad didn't talk to you about any of that?”

I shook my head softly, reaching up to wipe the tears from my eyes.

_“Have you told them yet?” was the first thing Cooper said when he came over for dinner a few weeks after we'd gotten back from the lake._

_I'd called Cooper the night after we came home and told him. I'd debated the whole drive home – in between texting Kurt – whether or not I should tell him. On one hand, he was sure to tease me about it for the rest of my life, but that was inevitable regardless of when I told him. But on the other hand, he was my brother and this was the sort of news you should be excited to share with your brother; even if I wasn't quite ready to tell my parents yet._

_“No, not yet,” I said under my breath, staring at him pointedly._

_“Squirt! It's been – what? A month? And you still haven't told them?!”_

_“A month on Wednesday, actually. And no, I haven't. It's kind of hard to find the time to tell them something like this when they spend every waking hour arguing.”_

_“I'm sorry. You should tell them though.”_

_“I will, I will. Just – not yet.”_

_Not yet ended up being much sooner than I'd hoped. Mum and Dad stood in the kitchen arguing while they made dinner, and then continued to argue while we ate dinner, the whole time during which Cooper and I sat awkwardly at the table in silence. I could tell that Cooper was fed up with it; his hands were clenched so tightly around his cutlery that his knuckles had turned white._

_We weren't even halfway through eating when Cooper slammed his cutlery down on the table – Mum and Dad startled enough that they actually stopped talking and turned to look at us for the first time since we sat down – and said, “Blaine and Kurt are dating.”_

_I nearly choked on my carrots._

_“What?!” Mum said, looking between Cooper and I._

_“Blaine and Kurt are dating,” Cooper said again. “They've been dating for nearly a month now. He called me a few days after and he was so happy – the happiest I've heard him, probably ever. And he didn't tell you because you two are so busy fighting all the time!”_

_Everyone was silent then, and I was suddenly very concentrated on cutting up my chicken._

_“Oh – um – is it serious?”_

_I felt myself blush when I saw that Dad was now looking at me, and simply nodded, not knowing how to express in words just how serious it was._

_“Well, we're happy for you, Blaine,” Dad said, just moments before Mum said, “You know you can tell us anything, right?”_

_Once again, I just nodded. We ate in silence, the house silent except for the scraping of knives and forks._

_The moment he'd finished eating, Cooper was pushing his chair back and getting to his feet, saying, “I feel like ice cream and I'm pretty sure you're out. Wanna come for a drive, Blaine?”_

“Well, just remember, you can always come to me if you need to. Now go back to Kurt before he has a heart attack thinking that I'm interrogating you.”

I chuckled as Burt pulled me into a tight hug, smiling as I walked back to the treehouse where Kurt was still perched at the top of the ladder. I climbed the rungs and sat down next to him, dangling my legs through the railing. I knew that Kurt wouldn't ask me what Burt had said – I'm still pretty certain that he already knew – but my eyes were blotchy and he must know I'd been crying so I had to say something.

“Your dad's pretty amazing, you know?”

Kurt's face broke into a smile then, obviously relieved. “Yeah, he really is.”

…

“Drive safely, boys!” Mum called from the doorstep as we walked down the front steps and to Burt's car – Kurt did have his own car but him and Burt didn't really see the point in driving both cars down.

“ _We will_ ,” we both called back in unison, laughing as we put our seat belts on and waved out the window.

We sipped our coffee in a pleasant silence while we drove, humming along to the music on the radio. It was unusual for us to not be talking, but it was eight am and the coffee hadn't quite kicked in yet. Why were we up and already on the road at eight am? The Summer Fields Music Festival, that's why. Kurt had mentioned it over the phone about a month ago. It wasn't a huge festival – it was going for two days but we were only going for one – and most of the bands were indie, unheard of groups, but music is music. We'd convinced Burt to let us take his car for the day, and promised that we'd pull over when we got halfway because the drive was a little over two hours and he didn't want Kurt to get fatigued.

It started at eleven, and by the time we arrived and got a car park, it was already past 10:30.

“Food first or get a good spot near the main stage?” I asked, looking around at the already gathering crowd.

“Food! I am absolutely starved.”

We bought gourmet hotdogs and used out time eating to look around the place; normally I wouldn't eat hotdogs at 10:30 in the morning but we'd already been awake for three and a half hours so to me it already felt like lunchtime. We made our way over to the main stage after that, pushing through hordes of people – gripping onto Kurt's hand tightly as he led the way – until we were close enough to actually see the people performing.

For unknown bands performing at a festival you only needed to pay $50 to get into, the music was actually really good. The acts changed every hour or so, and while some of them were a little too hardcore for our tastes, I found myself dancing along to most songs. Kurt wasn't as enthusiastic as I was, choosing instead to bop quietly along to the beat. We chose the introduction of a band whose named practically screamed _you are going to have a headache after this_ as the perfect moment to wander around and check out the other few smaller stages and merchandise stands scattered around the large field. Buying kebabs to once again satisfy our grumbling stomachs, we sat down on the grass, not quite close enough to any stage to be listening to one particular band.

“I'm glad we decided to come here,” Kurt said, watching as groups of people moved around us.

“Yeah, me too. I can't believe neither of us have ever been to a music festival before,” I chuckled, licking tzatziki from where it had dripped now the side of my finger.

“Well I am honoured to share my music festival virginity with you,” Kurt said, and I barely had a moment to feel the blush on my cheeks before Kurt spluttered as he choked slightly on his mouthful.

I was up and kneeling in front of him in a moment, rubbing a hand on his back while he caught his breath. “You alright?”

“Woah, wrong tube,” Kurt said quietly, nodding, his voice slightly raspy.

Moving to sit back on my heels, I rested one hand on his knee, reaching up with my other to wipe tzatziki from the corner of Kurt's mouth. I sucked it off my thumb before leaning forward and kissing him softly on the lips twice.

“What do you say we finish up here and then go check out one of the side stages?” I said, running my thumb along the inside of his bare knee.

“Okay,” Kurt smiled, biting the last chunk of meat from his kebab.

The afternoon went similarly to the morning, except instead of standing at the main stage, we kept to one of the smaller stages. I fell in love with a band that was halfway between _30 Seconds to Mars_ and _Imagine Dragons_ and made sure to buy their album from the merchandise stall set up next to the stage. The sky was just starting to turn red with the sunset and people were starting to dwindle away to presumably get something to eat when the music slowed; a guy who couldn't be more than 20 singing acoustic covers of the most recent chart-toppers. My eyes were on Kurt's smile as I wrapped my arms around his waist from behind, stretching up to rest my chin on his shoulder. His arms moved then to twine his hands with mine, saying quietly, “Remind me to buy this guy's album before we leave.”

“Of course,” I said with a kiss just behind his ear.

…

“I love you.”

I didn't think anything of it for a second, but then I looked up and saw the look in Kurt's eyes and realised this wasn't the _I love you_ exchanged between two people who had been best friends for the large majority of their lives. No, it was so much more than that. He was looking at me with such adoration and a soft smile of his face like I was the most beautiful thing to ever grace this earth. And I knew this look well; it was the look I gave him whenever he wasn't looking – sometimes when he was – or when he fell asleep against my shoulder while we were watching movies. Despite those words, the look in and of itself was enough to make my eyes prickle with tears.

“Really?” I asked, unable to stop the grin that was overcoming me.

Kurt chuckled at me. “Really. _Like Snape loved Lily_.”

If there weren't already tears in my eyes, there most definitely would have been then.

“You watched Harry Potter?” I whispered, honestly and sincerely touched. Kurt had seen the first few movies with me when we were younger, but he was more into historical films and romantic comedies so after about the third one I didn't force him to watch them with me anymore; despite how much I wanted to.

Kurt shook his head with a smile, suddenly looking a little embarrassed. “No, I – um – I read them.”

I allowed this to sink in for a few seconds – and _only_ a few seconds, no longer – before I dove across the couch, not caring where I threw my book or that it nearly knocked over our glasses of juice. Kurt giggled as I peppered his face with kisses, kissing every inch of him I could.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” I murmured over and over again, before kissing him soundly on the mouth; long and hot and desperate. “God, I love you so much.”

“If this is what I get for reading, I would have read them a long time ago,” Kurt said quietly.

“I can't believe you read them. Did you like them? What one was your favourite? Have you watched the movies yet?”

“Okay, okay...they were kind of amazing.”

“You have to watch the movies, oh my god. Like, right now. I have them in my room, I'll go get them,” I rambled, jumping from the couch where I'd ended up with my legs straddling Kurt's and running down the hallway to my bedroom, Kurt's laughter trailing behind me.


	13. 2013

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaine: 18, Kurt: 19.

“How is it that we have been dating for nearly two years yet we've never gone on an actual date?” Kurt said from the other side of the couch where we were sitting with our legs tangled together as they so often were these days.

“Maybe because we've only been together – like, in the same place – for two months of that time?” I suggest. It hadn't even dawned on me until that moment that we hadn't been on a proper date. I mean, we'd been out a lot; to get lunch or to get ice cream, we even went to a music festival last Summer. But we'd never actually been on a date where we get really dressed up and one of us picks the other up and take them out somewhere nice.

“But still, how many of those days over those two months have we sat there for hours trying to decide what to do and we end up watching a movie that we've both seen a hundred times, when instead we could have gone on a proper date?”

“True, but we always end up making out the whole time and, I don't know about you, but I think that's way more fun than going out to a fancy restaurant,” I said with a teasing smile.

“Blaine, I'm serious!” Kurt said with a kick to my side; but I knew he wasn't really annoyed if the way he was laughing was any indication. “Anyway, what I was getting at was that I wanted to ask you, Blaine Anderson, if you would like to go on a date with me?”

He actually looked kind of nervous, which was ridiculous; we were already dating, it's not like I was going to say no.

“Well, what if _I_ wanted to take _you_ out on a date, though?”

“I asked you first! You can take me on a date after I take _you_ out on a date,” Kurt said smugly.

“Okay, you have yourself a deal, Kurt Hummel,” I replied, holding out my hand so we could shake on it. However, Kurt slapped my hand out of the way and leant over to kiss me instead. I wasn't complaining.

…

“Oh my god!” I practically screamed in fright as Kurt flew past where I was sitting on the pier and dove into the water, droplets only just missing the pages of my book.

Kurt was laughing when he surfaced, shaking his hair out and wading into deeper water.

“You're lucky you didn't get my book wet; you'd be buying me another one!” I called out.

“One, I would never even think of doing such a thing, and two, that's my book anyway,” Kurt pointed out and, well, he had a point.

I hadn't realised until we were already here that I had no unread books on my bookshelf and hadn't brought any new ones with me, instead raiding the bookshelf in Kurt's lounge room, settling on _Bridge to Terabithia_. Kurt had read it at school and told me he and a love-hate relationship with it; he wouldn't tell me why, said I had to read it for myself.

I settled back against the post of was leaning against and returned to reading. For a while, the only noise that could be heard was me turning a page and Kurt quietly splashing in the water. However that quiet only lasted for about 20 minutes until Kurt swam back over to me, lifting himself up so that his arms were resting on the end of the pier, his shoulders sticking out of the water.

“Enough reading. Come and swim with me,” Kurt said abruptly.

“But _Kurt_ , I'm up to a really good part,” I complained, though it was starting to get very hot and the water did look really nice.

It didn't take much convincing before I was pulling my shirt over my head and canon ball-ing into the water; nowhere near graceful enough to pull off a dive like Kurt.

“B!” Kurt squealed as I jumped onto his back, wrapping my arms securely around his neck and my legs around his waist.

“My feet don't touch the ground this far out, I had to stay afloat somehow,” I said, resting my chin atop his head.

“It's called swimming.”

_“Technicalities.”_

Kurt seemed to admit defeat, walking out further until only his head was poking out of the water. “I have decided that our date will be on Thursday, by the way. So don't go planning anything.”

“Oh, I dunno. I might have to wash my hair on Thursday.”

I barely had a moment to say _I'm kidding_ before Kurt loosened my grip around his neck and I was falling backwards into the water. When I surfaced and had rubbed the water from my eyes, Kurt was laughing and already swimming back towards the pier. By the time I caught up with him, he was already at the pier, leaning against one of the large posts.

“You're gonna pay for that,” I said teasingly.

“And what might my punishment be?” he said, one eyebrow raised.

I didn't waste any time in kissing him, stepping closer and pressing up against him. I waited until Kurt's hand had moved to cup the back of my neck before pulling away.

“I'm hungry, let's go have lunch.” And I pulled myself up onto the pier, drying myself off with my towel.

“Tease,” Kurt muttered, though still loud enough for me to hear.

…

Blaine to Kurt _(11:40pm):_  
 _I hate you._

Kurt to Blaine _(11:41pm):_  
 _What did I do?!_

Blaine to Kurt _(11:41pm):_  
 _Bridge to Terabithia, that's what._

Kurt to Blaine _(11:42pm):_  
 _Aww, babe. I'm sorry._

Blaine to Kurt _(11:43pm):_  
 _When you said you had a love-hate relationship with it I didn't think you meant because it rips your heart out, breaks it in two and then stomps on it._

Kurt to Blaine _(11:45pm):_  
 _You're never going to trust my book recommendations again, are you?_

Blaine to Kurt _(11:45pm):_  
 _I dunno. Maybe._

_(11:46pm):_   
_Can I still borrow Looking For Alaska?_

…

To say I was a little worried when Kurt leant across the centre console to tie a blindfold over my eyes would be correct.

“Should I be concerned that you don't want me to see where you're taking me? You're actually kidnapping me, aren't you? And you don't want me to know where your secret lair is?”

“Drama queen much?” Kurt laughed. “And I just wanted it to be a surprise, that's all. This is our first date, I want it to be perfect.”

I reached across blindly – literally – until my hand rested on Kurt's knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Regardless of what we do, it's going to be perfect.”

We weren't in the car for long; 15, maybe 20 minutes tops. I was thinking about the movie _Beverly Hills Ninja_ , which I used to love as a kid, as I tried to figure out where we were going based on what I could hear. I gave up when we turned onto a gravel road; yeah, I had no idea where we were.

“Stay right there, mister,” Kurt said as I moved to undo my seatbelt.

A moment later I was hit with a warm breeze as my door opened, Kurt hands wrapping around mine and tugging on them, prompting me to slowly step out of the car. The car beeped as Kurt locked it and pocketed the keys, before his hands came to rest on my hips from behind as he nudged me forward. We walked for a few minutes, Kurt giving instructions like _left here_ and _we're going down some steps now_.

“Okay, stop for just a second,” Kurt said, and with that the firm grip of his hands was gone. I heard a rustling that sounded like the movement of branches but my heart was beating so loud in my chest that I couldn't be sure. And then Kurt's hands were on mine, guiding me forward just a few more metres. “And sit down.”

“Sit down?” I asked, looking around futilely, still unable to see anything. I sat down, feeling the ground with my hands first and surprisingly finding material beneath them. “Can I take this blindfold off yet?”

“Eager,” Kurt laughed. “Just keep your eyes shut for a second while I take it off...okay, you can look now.”

I opened my eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the light. In front of me was a picnic blanket, adorned with a picnic basket I recognised from Kurt's pantry as well as two plates and two glasses, a bottle of apple cider leant up against the side of the basket.

“Kurt...”

He was kneeling on the other side of the picnic blanket, chewing on his bottom lip and looking at me expectantly.

“I don't know if you remember, but...” and he trailed off with a hand waving around as if that explained everything. It was only then that I actually looked around at where we were, having only been focused on what Kurt had set up. We were surrounded by leaves and branches, and it wasn't until I looked up that I realised we were underneath a willow tree, its branches so long that we were entirely enclosed.

“Is this – is this the tree from the first day we met?”

The smile on Kurt's face grew a thousand times, any trace of nervousness having vanished.

“You remember.”

Tilting my head to the side and looking at how the blush crept up Kurt's cheeks, I said, “I had my first kiss that day, of course I remember.”

Kurt smiled bashfully, “Me too. It's not a day one simply forgets... Anyway, these sandwiches that I made are amazing, so would you like something to eat?”

“Please,” I said, sitting back while Kurt pulled tupperware containers and napkins from the picnic basket. I started serving sandwiches – cut into triangles – while Kurt poured apple cider into our glasses. “How did you organise all this?”

“Dad. I made the sandwiches and stuff this morning and he drove out here about half an hour before we left and set everything up.”

“Remind me to thank him later.”

We ate mostly in silence, stealing glances at each other while we ate. Kurt was pulling out more tupperware containers, this time filled with cut up fruit, when I said, “You know that first day when we met, after your mum found us and I went back to Coop, I told him that I was in love,” I laughed at the memory, my laughter catching in my throat a moment later. “I love you so, so much. I don't say it nearly enough, but I really do.”

“You texted me a minimum of once a day for the past year telling me you loved me, I think that's enough,” Kurt joked, but I could see the sincerity in his eyes.

“I could say it a hundred times a day and it still wouldn't be enough.”

“Sap. I love you too.”

The teasing smile Kurt was giving me was too much, so I took the container of fruit from his hands and placed it on the picnic rug, leaning over to kiss him instead.

Making out with Kurt is great. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love when Kurt and I just lounge around the house and watch movies together or lean against each other while we read or when we go swimming or kayaking and all those other things, but making out is just really, really great. There's just something about it that makes me feel so loved and connected and warm inside. The way that Kurt twists my curls around his fingers and lets out these quiet whimpering noses when I kiss him in _that_ _spot_ and how he sometimes slips his hands underneath my t-shirt just to run his hands over my lower back.

A shiver ran over my body as Kurt's left hand made its way up my side, his hands clinging to me as I sucked on his lower lip. We were no longer sitting, instead both laying on our sides; though not for long as Kurt wrapped his arms around the back of my neck and rolled over onto his back, effectively pulling me on top of him. We kissed leisurely for a while until I felt myself becoming less and less concerned about keeping my weight off him, deciding when I could feel every inch of Kurt against me that this was neither an appropriate place nor time.

“Kurt,” I whispered as I pulled back, resisting from falling back into him when he let out a small whine. “As much as I love where this is going, I think we should probably stop.”

Lifting himself up enough to lean back on his elbows, unable to sit up fully as I was still straddling his knees, Kurt let out a breath and ran a hand over his hair. “We did – uh – get a little carried away there.”

“I do...” I paused for a moment, trying to shake my nerves. “I do want that with you, believe me I do; but not here. I want it to be perfect and, as lovely and sweet and romantic as this is, there are families eating their lunch not 250 metres from us.”

Kurt laughed, muffling the sound against my shoulder. We sat in silence while our breaths evened out until Kurt said, “I have a proposition for you. How about, instead of taking me out to a fancy restaurant – and don't even try to deny that that's what you were planning – how about we kick our parents out and eat in instead?”

Kurt bit down on his bottom lip and I felt my heart rate quicken because what he was implying was _huge_.

“O-okay. Yeah, we can definitely do that.”

…

“Hey, Mum?” I asked from the doorway, watching her look up from the book she was reading when she heard my voice.

“Hey, sweetie, what's up?”

“I was – um – do you think you could maybe teach me how to make your butter chicken recipe?” I asked nervously.

“Yeah, sure. You do know that if you want it you can just ask, right?” she laughed.

“Well, I actually wanted to make it for Kurt.”

Her smile softened then, the small imprint of dimples appearing in her cheeks. “In that case, let's get cooking then,” she said, and then she was placing a bookmark between the pages of her book and walking towards the kitchen, grabbing my hand as she passed me and pulling me along with her.

“Okay, so first you have to...”

…

It was Saturday – date night – and I was really freaking nervous. As planned, instead of going out to a fancy restaurant, Kurt and I were staying in at his house and I would cook him dinner. Mum, Dad and Burt were all going into town for the night, promising not to disrupt us any time before midnight. I'd double and triple-checked the recipe with Mum and had gotten everything ready this afternoon, only needing to put it on the stove when I went over to Kurt's.

“Oh Blaine, you look so handsome!” Mum crooned when I came out of my room, putting her hands on either side of her face while she made me turn around. I was wearing suit pants – freshly pressed – and a short-sleeved button down navy shirt, a red bowtie tied carefully under my collar. “Kurt isn't going to know what's hit him.”

“Remember, no interrupting,” I warned, specifically looking at my Mum who quickly shook her head and looked at me as if to say _what, me_?

“Don't worry, bud. Kurt's already threatened me with bodily harm if we do,” Burt said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Now go knock his socks off.”

I took steadying breaths as I walked the short distance between mine and Kurt's houses – for the first time in my life wishing that they were further apart – a green bag full of everything I needed for dinner in one hand and the other decidedly empty; maybe I should have brought flowers. I stood on the doorstep for a minute before I knocked, and I don't think I'd ever truly understood the meaning of the phrase _took my breath away_ until Kurt opened the door. Dressed in dark shorts and a dark green shirt buttoned at his wrists, his hair styled to perfection, I couldn't stop my jaw from dropping.

“Wow! You look _amazing_ ,” I whispered, my heart warming at the way he smiled at me bashfully.

“Says you,” Kurt said, taking my free hand and pulling me inside, kissing me quickly before shutting the door.

Kurt sat at one of the kitchen stools while I cooked, resting his chin in his hands as we chatted idly.

“This smells so good, B,” Kurt praised as I led him to the table which was complete with candles and a single flower in a glass. I waited eagerly as he took his first few bites. “Okay, you've been holding out on me. You never told me that your cooking abilities extended beyond two-minute noodles!”

“Mum helped,” I shrugged off the compliment, though inside I was doing a happy dance.

My nervousness dissipated as we fell into easy conversation, and while we ate, I honestly forgot why I was so nervous in the first place. I smiled at the way Kurt would put his cutlery down every so often so that he could make exaggerated hand gestures while he talked. And at how he absentmindedly ran his foot up the inside of my leg occasionally. And when he reached across the table to squeeze my hand for no reason at all.

“You really outdid yourself,” Kurt said as we collected the dishes and carried them into the kitchen. “And because of that, I'm going to do the dishes while you sit there and look beautiful.”

“Hey, no. This is my date and I say that _I_ wash the dishes,” I protested.

“I wash, you dry?” he offered.

I sighed, knowing that was the best compromise I would get. “Okay.”

I'm not entirely sure how it happened but one minute we were putting away the last few dishes, and the next I was leaning against the bench with Kurt's hands either side of me on the bench top and his lips on mine. Without breaking away, Kurt trailed his hands down my arms, entangling our fingers together and giving me a tug. It wasn't until we reached his room that I remembered why I had been so nervous, the butterflies returning in full force.

“Are you sure?” Kurt whispered, his face still close.

I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry. I swallowed slowly before saying, “I love you.”

The corner of Kurt's mouth quirked up in a smile. “I love you too.”

And then I lost myself in him.

…

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was an acrid taste in my mouth. I rolled over in bed, reaching over to find the spot next to me empty. Opening my eyes just a fraction, I let out a yawn before I was overcome with a coughing fit; though it didn't pass. I tried to pull myself from the bed to get a glass of water from Kurt's adjoining bathroom, but could hardly stay standing as I tried to catch my breath, smoke filling my lungs. I crouched low on the floor, the heat and the smoke pressing down on me, making my head foggy and my breaths come out in short, quick gasps. I distantly heard a familiar voice calling my name before the fog clouded my brain completely.


	14. 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaine: 19, Kurt: 20.

Brushing my wispy hair out of my eyes, even though the wind would only push them back seconds later, I stared at the property. The newly regrown grass and the varnished wooden decking, covered up the tragedy that lied deep under its foundations. It was a place that still brought me to tears. I often end up here, after wandering aimlessly for hours, and find the dirtied air in my lungs compressed. I struggle to catch my breath as the stinging behind my eyes turns to tears, which roll over my cheeks and my slightly quivering lips. My need to bottle everything up is unfortunately not strong enough to override the need to let everything off my chest. No matter how hard I've tried to forget and move on with my life, I just can't seem to bring myself to do it. It seems almost like betrayal, to forget about this place I stand before and the countless memories it holds.

But where is the line? Where is the line that divides too much and not enough? The swarm of decisions that I must now make overwhelm me to a point where I wish I could just shut my eyes and let all the hard things in my life fly over my head. And other times when it becomes too hard, I want to let the misery wash over me; to give in the gaping hole in my chest. I can't do that though. It would be unfair to him, if I were to choose to live that way, when he'd have given anything to have my life; to be me right now.

That isn't how life works though; I can't just choose to switch places with him. Fairness doesn't work that way. To be honest, I don't know how fairness works at all. How is it fair that I remain here, with all of this pain and sorrow and memories. It just doesn't seem right.

Pressing my palm against the cool glass of the front fence, I am reminded of how it used to be. A vision of the chipped and faded green picket fence replaces the wall I see before me. It seemed to me like this new fence is some sort of barricade; though it failed to prevent me from remembering. I remember the feel of the old pebble pathway, the one that lead around the side of the house, underneath my bare feet. The small seedlings in no way compared to the old gums that once stood there. I still can't wrap my head around the fact that I had once found this place an asylum; my sanctuary. Whereas now it causes me so much heartache that I try my utmost hardest to avoid it; though it is inevitable that I will always end up here, one way or another.

As much as I despise it here, it allows me to think. It allows me to think about all the things I spend every minute of the day trying to avoid. They may not necessarily be welcome thoughts, but it's those thoughts that allow me to go back to before; when everything seemed okay.

_*A moment of Kurt*_

_I couldn't help but smile as I watched Blaine sleep, his head laying on the same pillow as mine with his mouth slightly open, his hand still loosely grasped around mine. He looked so peaceful in sleep, reminding me of a younger Blaine; of years of sleepovers and falling asleep while watching movies. I ran a hand softly over his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before curling up against him._

_When I woke up, my skin a crawl, I automatically sensed that something was wrong. With a quick kiss to Blaine's forehead, I pulled on a jumper and slipped out my door. The smell of smoke immediately hit me. I ran down the stairs, not even making it half way down before the heat hit in full force._

_“Blaine!” I called back up the stairs as loudly as I could, pulling the collar of my jumper up to cover my nose and mouth. Despite doing so, I could feel the smoke coating my throat and covering my skin. “Blaine!”_

_By the time I reached the downstairs hallway, I was already clutching my stomach, twisted and tugging from the force of my coughing._

_Oh my god, I thought as I came face to face with a wall of flames and smoke and despite the overwhelming instant to run back upstairs and get Blaine and get the hell out of there – what was it that they called it in school... stop, drop and roll? - my entire body shut down and I could only stand there and stare. I stood there as the heat swept over me, the smoke filled me, and my body began to shake; an incessant stream of Blaine Blaine Blaine Blaine running through my head. I tried and tried and tried to make myself move, but it wasn't until I felt hands grip my forearms and spin me around that I snapped out of it._

_“Blaine!” I screamed._

_“Bud, c'mon, we need to get you out of here!”_

_“Dad, no! Blaine, he's still upstairs! We have to get him! Blaine!” I didn't care about how much my throat was burning; Dad had his arms wrapped around me so tight that I had no hope in getting free of him, but he was going the wrong way. “Where are you going? No! Blaine is upstairs!”_

_As soon as we were out of the house and out of Dad's arms, breathing in the fresh air in deep gulps as it washed away the burn in my throat, I was running back to the door._

_“Kurt, no, you can't go back in there. Listen to me, you're of no use to Blaine if you're dead,” Dad said as he held onto my shoulders and looked me dead in the eye._

_“And I'm of no use to_ anyone _if he's dead!” I sobbed._

_“I'll get him out. I promise you, I'll get him out,” he whispered, kissing my forehead before running back inside._

I shut my eyes and took a deep breath, bringing my hands up to wipe the tears from my eyes. They still don't know exactly how it happened; they never found the spot where it started, and without that, they have nothing to trace it to. Instead they ruled it off as accidental and the next thing I know, the remains are being demolished and this new and expensive and un-lived in monstrosity was put in it's place. I tried to put it to the back of my mind – thinking that if I pretended it never happened that when I came back in the Summer the old blue house with the white picket fence which I loved so much would still be there. But I could only fool myself for so long – because for how long could I pretend that everything was okay when Kurt, who was so intertwined with every aspect of my life, was no longer there.

Most of that day and the few days following it are a blur; the doctors said that was likely because of the high level of smoke I inhaled, although I'm pretty sure my mind subconsciously suppressed them, because experiencing them once was painful enough without having to live with the memories. I remember things in small chunks mostly. I remember waking up and not knowing where Kurt was; I remember being shaken awake some time later and finding Burt pulling me out of bed; I remember being surrounded by so many people who were all far too close and were talking far too loud; I remember waking up again except this time I was in a hospital with a ventilator helping me breathe; I remember yelling and screaming and crying and then that was it, he was gone.

While Burt had been getting me out of the house, a wooden beam from above the stairs collapsed, blocking our way out. While I only suffered a small amount of smoke inhalation because Burt had covered my face with a jumper he had found on Kurt's floor, the same could not be said for him, who inhaled so much smoke that he suffered a large amount of damage to his lungs.

The build up of stress and confusion and lightheadedness from the smoke got to the point where neither of us could hold it in any longer and we both just burst. A combination of me feeling guilty and of Kurt blaming me, was ultimately what caused us to crack in the end. With tears streaming down my face and my throat hoarse from yelling, I walked out of the hospital as Kurt walked back into Burt's room with a sob. And that was the last time I spoke to him. It would have been so easy to have just picked up the phone and called him, or just sent him a text; but the look in his eyes that day at the hospital stopped me from doing so. He was so, so angry, and though I know that was partly just because he was worried about his dad and that he had probably somewhat forgiven me by now, but I couldn't take that first step. If he had forgiven me, surely he would have contacted me, right? I didn't find out until recently, through my parents, but Burt now had to live with an oxygen tank because the damage to his lungs was too severe for him to breathe on his own. And apparently Kurt had flown back from New York and transferred to a college back home so that he could help out.

I let go of where my hands were gripping the fence with a grip so tight I was potentially risking the glass cutting open my palms. I slowly walked back to our house, unable to keep myself from glancing back every few metres. It still felt weird to know that that was no longer the Hummel's house, that it was now owned by a family who I'd never once seen occupying it. I took a plate of lasagne out of the fridge when I got back inside, taking off the glad wrap and putting it in the microwave for a minute. I sat and ate at the bench, the large dining table feeling too empty with only me, Mum and Dad both working over the Summer. I left my dishes in the sink, deciding I'd wash them later, and curled up on the couch with a book that I knew I wouldn't actually pay attention to. Even though I knew that coming here by myself was probably a mistake – I knew that I would spend the entire time looking over at the empty house and comforting my pain with copious amounts of food – I couldn't not come, not when there was the slightest chance that Kurt might show up. And there was a chance. Regardless of how small that chance was, I would still come every Summer – waiting, hoping.


	15. 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaine: 20, Kurt: 21.

It has been one hell of a year; starting with college. College had always been a touchy topic in my family. Cooper had decided to go to college in LA, much to the dismay of our mum. Dad was all for _broadening our horizons_ but Mum could not bare the thought of us moving out of our small town, let alone the state. Which is why it was tough for me to break the news to her that I had decided to go to the Berklee College of Music. Yes, in Boston. Despite the numerous times I'd mentioned to her that that was where I wanted to go, and that I'd been accepted, she still had the idea in her mind that I would choose somewhere closer to home; and by closer to home I mean as close as you could possibly get.

“Berklee? But – that's in _Boston_!”

“Yes, Mum, I am well aware of that. And so should you. I've only mentioned it a dozen times,” I sighed.

“But nothing was confirmed. I thought you were just keeping your options open.”

“I _was_ keeping my options open, that's why I applied to colleges here.”

“If Blaine wants to go to college in Boston, then we will let him go to college in Boston,” my dad interjected – thank god. “We let Cooper choose where he wanted to go, it would be unfair if we didn't allow the same for Blaine.”

“Yes, and look what happened to Cooper. He's finished at college and he still hardly ever comes back to visit,” Mum said as she stood up, pushing her chair in and walking into the kitchen.

Picking up my plate, I stood and followed Mum out of the room. “Boston isn't even that far away. And I'll be back for holidays. And Thanksgiving. And Christmas.”

“And what happens if you meet someone there like Cooper did, and then you'll never want to come back?”

I recoiled like someone had punched me in the gut. “Meet someone? Are you _serious_?”

“Oh Blaine, you can't keep waiting for him forever,” she whispered, reaching out and cupping my cheek with her hand, but only for a moment before I stepped back out of her reach. It had barely been a year – a year out of the 14 we had spent together – and she was expecting me to just move on.

“I can. And I will. Just like I am going to Berklee.”

So that was the first thing. I did go to Berklee, majoring in Performance, and while it was probably the most stressful and intense year of study I've ever done in my entire, every single minute was worth it. When Mum got me into violin lessons as I kid, I thought of it as an inconvenience like _damn, Mum is making me learn an instrument, I guess if I have to I'll play the violin_ and now I'm making it into a living.

The second thing came around January. I excused myself from dinner at the food hall to answer my phone and Mum told me that her and Dad were getting a divorce. I guess it shouldn't have surprised me. They've literally spent my entire life arguing and I should have seen it coming considering they hardly spoke two words to each other at Thanksgiving and Christmas. Though in a way that made my decision easier when Mum asked me where I was going to spend the Summer, at her's or at dad's...

“At the lake,” I said simply, ignoring the look of sympathy she gave me.

Now here I am, an entire Summer ahead of me with nothing to do. About a week in I decided that I needed to get a job, the thought of spending another three weeks here doing nothing but staring at walls nauseating. So I put together a resume, Mr Ramsey down the road nice enough to let me borrow his printer, and drove into town. I stood in the town square and looked around at my options. There was the small supermarket, but I had worked at a supermarket one day a week during my junior year and standing at a checkout for 8 hours a day was really not my thing. There was the coffee shop, but my coffee addiction and bank balance was bad enough without adding that temptation to it. I paused when I saw the florist. Now a florist I could work in. Standing up straight and putting on my best smile, I opened the door, catching the eye of the lady behind the counter who looked up when the door jingled.

“Hi, my name is Blaine Anderson and I was wondering whether you had any job offerings available?” I said, holding out my hand.

“Can you start tomorrow?”

“To-tomorrow? Oh okay, um yes, that's fine. Perfect, actually. Thank you, thank you so much,” I stumbled over my words.

Well that was a lot easier than I was expecting. When I'd gotten my job at the supermarket it had involved an individual interview _and_ a group interview, as well as training. Yet here, this lady is offering me a job on the spot without even reading my resume or asking whether I had any experience; she doesn't even know my name.

“I'm Blaine, by the way,” I added as an afterthought.

“Lovely to meet you, Blaine. I'm Judy. So, nine o'clock tomorrow?” she said with a smile.

“I can't wait,” I beamed triumphantly before leaving the store with a quick goodbye.

Pulling out my phone, I brought up my messages to text Cooper: _Just got myself a job. Didn't even have to show her my resume, that's how much she loved me._

A reply came through just as I reached my car: _So we might be related after all. Good job, Squirt – glad to see you back in the swing of things._

That last part stung; _back in the swing of things_. It was little reminders like that that brought me back to reality, reminding me why I was finding a job for the Summer in the first place.

By the time I got home, having dawdled in town, I was starting to get hungry so I set about making lasagne for dinner. I'd been cooking a lot in the last year, having picked up quite a knack for it. Living out of home was a large motivator; surviving on two-minute noodles and mac and cheese could last only so long. I turned the TV on while I sat on the couch and ate, watching reruns of _Friends_ until I felt my eyelids begin to droop.

I woke up with a smile for the first time in a long time the next morning, a balanced mixture of nerves and excitement running through me; similar to those on my first day at Berklee. I wasn't entirely sure what the dress code was for the florist; Judy had been wearing a knee length skirt and a polo shirt, so I'm guessing nothing too fancy. I settled on denim shorts and a short-sleeved button up shirt; casual but not too casual. It normally took about 20 minutes to drive into town, but I'd never driven in at this time before and I didn't want to be late, so I left early enough to allow for delays. As it turns out, it only takes 15 minutes this time of morning, so I arrived with 25 minutes to spare. I sat in my car for approximately six minutes before I noticed that the shop blinds were open. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of my car and walked over to the shop front, pausing for a moment before knocking three times on the glass door. It wasn't long before I saw Judy pop up from behind the counter, a smile appearing on her face when she spotted me.

“Blaine, hello. I didn't expect to see you here so early,” she said as she let me inside.

“I left early to make sure I was here on time, but apparently I left too early,” I laughed quietly.

“Well, better to be early than late,” she commented as she led me out the back. “Okay, you can put your bag in one of these lockers here. First things first, let me show you around the shop.”

The shop really wasn't very big, so _show you around the shop_ may have been stretching it a little, but she showed me the office and the supplies room and she taught me how to use the register.

“Now I won't throw you too far in the deep end today...”

I spent the majority of the day organising flowers; trimming the stems, chopping off dead leaves, refilling pots with water. But for the last hour of the day, Judy let me run the register, standing close by just in case I needed any help.

“You did well today, Blaine.”

“Thank you. I really enjoyed myself,” I said truthfully as I collected by things.

“Same time tomorrow?”

“Same time tomorrow.”

…

By the time Friday came around, I really was getting the hang of everything. I knew where most things were kept in the supply cupboard, I was able to answer _most_ queries customers asked me, and Judy even left me in charge of the store for a half hour while she ran errands.

It was nice – having something to occupy my time. By the time I got home most nights, it was after six and I would start dinner right away. So I would eat, do the dishes, read a book or watch a movie and then I was off to bed. A couple of years ago I would have complained of my lack of free time, but now I welcomed it.

“So how long are you down here for?” Judy asked from the register while I prepared roses.

“I'm normally only down for a month, but I think I might hang around a little longer this year.” With Mum and Dad separated, I didn't want to have to deal with the hassle of choosing where I would stay for the remainder of the Summer – it would be so much easier if I just stayed here until I moved back into my dorm. And at least while I'm here, I can work and earn some money.

“Where are you staying while you're here?”

“I'm staying at my parents' holiday house down by the lake?”

“Oh, the lake. I haven't been down there in forever,” she commented.

“We've come every Summer since I was a kid. My older brother doesn't come anymore and my parents just got divorced so it's just me this year,” I said, trying to make my smile seem sincere.

“I'm sorry to here that.” She paused. “Wasn't there a house fire somewhere on the lake a couple of years ago?”

My hand slipped as I was removing the thorns from a rose, cutting up the side of my finger. “Dammit,” I muttered under my breath, wrapping my other hand around the finger to stop it bleeding. “Um, yeah, there was a fire. Two Summers ago.”

“Oh dear, what have you done? Lets go clean that up.”

I sighed with relief as Judy walked into the back room, coming back a moment later with a first aid kit. I started to relax, thinking she'd forgotten about our conversation.

“Did you know them? The people whose house it was?” Apparently not.

“Uh yeah, I did. They don't come here anymore though, not since then,” I said quietly, blinking rapidly to stop the tears I could feel springing up behind my eyes.

“That's a shame...There, that should do it,” she tapped my finger which was now neatly bandaged. “How about you jump on the register now to avoid any more injuries?”

That was the last we spoke of it, but even by the time I got back to the house, I still felt shaken. I tried making dinner but at the rate I was going with my finger bandaged, it was going to take all night. I gave up and instead heated up leftovers from during the week. I didn't have to go into the florist again until Monday – Judy already had someone who worked weekends – so I didn't need to go to bed early, and I was struggling to concentrate on anything for longer than 10 minutes. Going outside, I walked over the the shed, the doors screeching as I opened them from not being opened in so long. It took me a little while to locate the oars, hidden in the back, but then I was dragging out the kayak that was faded with age and dusty from disuse.

I paddled out into the middle of the lake before I stopped to take a breath. Turning to look back at the house, I was brought back to a day nearly ten years ago, when Kurt and I were sitting in this exact kayak contemplating how we were going to make it back to the shore without any oars. I could still hear 12 year old Kurt's laugh echoing in my head from when Dad had asked us why he found two oars in the water. It wasn't long before 12 year old Kurt was replaced with 19 year old Kurt, and no longer was his laughter about kayak oars but about me pressing light kisses over every inch of his face, and pulling him off the pier with me, and making cookies and getting more flour on ourselves than in the actual cookies.

I choked back a sob.

“I miss you. Kurt, I miss you so much.”


	16. 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaine: 21, Kurt: 22.

Stepping through the door, I heard it jingle and a moment later, what sounded like a box being dropped on the floor.

“Blaine! You're back!” she smiled as she poked her head around the corner of a shelf.

“Judy!” I said happily, allowing myself to be wrapped up in her arms.

“You cut your hair,” she commented as I pulled back.

“Oh yeah,” I said, running my hand through my recently shortened hair. I'd kind of forgotten that I'd cut it. I'd let it grow quite raggedy over the last couple of years and it finally got to the point that if my hair fell in front of my eyes while I was studying one more time, I was going to flip it. It wasn't too short – it was still long enough that there were distinctive curls – but compared to how long it had been when I'd worked for Judy last Summer, it was definitely much shorter.

“Sit, sit. Would you like a cup of tea? Coffee?” she fussed, pulling out a chair for me.

“A tea would be great, thanks,” I said. Sitting down and listening to her fumble around in the back room. I looked around the store to find that not much had changed since last year; one of the flower stands and the seed stand had been switched around, but other than that it was as if I'd only been gone five minutes.

“So, tell me. What have you been up to?” Judy appeared again, carrying two mugs, steam coming from both of them. “Here you go...”

“Umm, not much has really happened, to be honest,” I said, and I really was being honest.

Nothing of significance stuck out at me. I'd gone back to college to find that my roommate had dropped out and had been replaced by a much nicer guy named Carter who was actually one of my closest friends now. I'd picked up a couple of extra classes, as well as some extracurricular activities; I'd take all the extra credit I could get. I performed in the end of semester concert; my professor had even given me a short solo which was so amazing and breathtaking and it was moments like that that make me realise again and again that this is exactly what I want to do with my life. And now I'm back here.

Actually, okay, I might have lied a little; I _did_ turn 21, which I have to say is not as exciting as everyone makes it out to be. The only things that were different were that I could now go to clubs and drink, which really was of no appeal to me. Parties really aren't my thing, and I've never really been inclined to drink, so it was pretty much just another birthday. But alas, Cooper had insisted that he had to be the one to take me out for my first _clubbing experience_. Although now I kind of wish that I'd declined and had taken up Carter's offer to take me out instead. Why, you might ask? Because Cooper's idea of a “fun night” is getting me so hammered that it took me two days to recover afterwards. And apparently drunken-me is not so great at suppressing my emotions as sober-me, because I spent the later portion of the night wallowing over Kurt – something I had been trying very hard not to do. However, considering it was my boss who I was talking to, regardless of how close we are, I figured that was something that was best left out.

“You're telling me you did nothing at all in the last 11 months? I find that hard to believe,” she asked, shooting me a look that pretty much said _I know you're lying to me, mister._

“Well, I did _things_ , but nothing that's exactly newsworthy. College, homework, college, violin, college...”

“You didn't meet a nice girl at that fancy school of yours?” she said with an extremely exaggerated wink.

I involuntarily blushed. Which now meant that I couldn't just say no and brush it off because then she'd just assume I was lying. Which I wasn't, I was blushing because what she was saying was so far fetched and so far from the truth. Which meant that I now needed to tell her that I'm gay – not that that bothers me – but it was just something I was trying to avoid because it's not exactly something that needs to be disclosed in the workplace; it's not necessary for straight people to state that they're straight, so why did I have to state that I'm not.

“No, I didn't meet any girls. Well, I _met_ a whole heap but – umm – I'm actually gay,” I rambled; _wow, great job, Blaine – so eloquent._

I noticed Judy's eyes widen the slightest bit for a split second, and then she was back to normal and asking me, “Did you meet any boys then?”

I actually laughed out loud; of course me being gay didn't bother her, she just wanted to know the goss.

“I didn't, no. I actually – well, we're not dating anymore... at the moment. But I was dating this guy who was my best friend for as long as I can remember, but then a lot of stuff happened a couple of years ago and I haven't seen him since. But he's the love of my life. And I don't say that loosely – I know a lot of people throw that around, but he honest-to-god is. And I just can't move on from that.”

The smile on Judy's face grew sad, and she reached across to give my hand a small squeeze.

“I'm sure he'll realise soon enough.”

“I hope so.”

…

“Oh my god,” I coughed as I pulled open the curtains, the dust that had been building up over the last year coming over me in a suffocating cloud.

When I'd arrived last Summer, it had only been a few months since someone had last been there, with Dad living there temporarily after the divorce while he searched for a new house. So, luckily for me, the house was mostly clean and dust-free last Summer. _Un_ luckily for me, this Summer it was not.

“Okay,” I sighed, clapping my hands together and getting to work.

I spent the large majority of the weekend doing housework; cleaning, dusting, vacuuming, shopping. By the time Sunday night arrived, I was utterly exhausted – I had to hand it to my mum, housework is _hard_ – but the house was now well and truly spotless.

I was actually really excited to get back to work at the florist. If I was being totally honest, I'd actually kind of missed it; which you'd really not be expecting to hear from a college student who'd just started his holidays. I didn't have the time for a job during the year. My class schedule was ridiculous – my contact hours increasing more and more every semester – and with the amount of time I spent studying, working on assignments and practicing, I barely had enough time to stay up-to-date on the one TV show I actually watched, let alone the time to have a job. I'd heard from so many of my friends that they found it hard to forget about classes and homework and get back into holiday mode, the nagging feeling that you should be studying pulling at the back of your mind. However I actually found it quite easy. I mean, I still felt the need to be practicing, but I had no issue with forgetting about anything to do with studying. And getting back to work was even easier.

In the small amount of spare time I'd managed during the semester, I'd become quite fond of running; a habit that I hoped to stick to over the Summer. So on Monday afternoon when I got back from work, I changed into my running gear, dug my runners out from the bottom on my bag – which I still hadn't unpacked – and set off running. It actually worked out really well; I would come home from work and get everything for dinner prepared before I went, so that when I got back from my run, dinner was ready to be cooked.

…

I stopped running and pulled my phone out from my pocket to check the time. It was Wednesday of my second week here; I was making spaghetti and I'd left the meat on to simmer while I was gone, so I had to cut my run a little short to get back in time. I slowed down as the house came into view, wiping the back of my hand across my forehead.

Had I not just been running and was paying more attention to my surroundings rather than on the food that was waiting for me inside, I probably would have noticed the unfamiliar car parked behind mine around the side of the house. However, that was not the case, which was why I actually felt like I might pass out when I looked up to see an oh so familiar person sitting on the front porch steps.

“Kurt,” I whispered, unable to take in any more breath as my throat closed up on me.

His head shot up, eyes meeting mine for the first time in nearly three years and god, they had not changed a bit. His lips lifted into a small but weary smile.

“Hi,” he said quietly, sighing with what I assumed was relief.

We were both frozen to the spot, his eyes staring into mine, feeling as though they were burning holes into them. He looked so different but at the same time he looked exactly the same. His hair was different; longer, less styled. His face was older, his cheekbones more defined. But his smile, his smile had not changed at all.

I swallowed slowly, my saliva like sandpaper against my throat, before finding it in me to say, “Did you want to come inside?”

“Oh, thank you,” Kurt said, and hearing his voice again was like heaven.

I let us both inside, walking into the kitchen and taking the spaghetti off heat. I took a packet of pasta from the pantry, cutting it open with a pair of scissors before pausing.

“Did you want to stay for dinner? I've made spaghetti...”

“Sure, okay,” he smiles shyly, pulling out one of the kitchen stools to sit down.

I filled a pot with water and added enough pasta for two, putting it on the burner where the sauce had been.

“Umm, I'm just gonna go and take a shower 'cause,” I gestured to my sweaty self, “I've been running. Just, uh, make yourself at home.”

As soon as I was in the bathroom and the door was shut behind me, I let the tears come. I fell back against the door, allowing myself to sink to the ground, and covered my face with both hands as I sobbed.

_Why? Why was he here? And why now, when I'd managed to avoid thinking about him all day? Why not two years ago? Why not last year? Why not any other day before today?_

_Okay_ , I took a deep breath, running my shaking hands through my hair. _There are two ways you can do this. You can walk out of here right now, tears streaming down your face, and yell and scream and get every bit of anger and hurt and guilt that have been sitting dormant for the past three years off your chest, which will more than likely end with Kurt screaming and yelling and crying with just as much vigour as you and then walking out – except this time there is no way he's coming back. Or...you can get up off the floor, get in the shower like you said, and then go back out there and have dinner with him like two old friends._

“No,” I whispered as I roughly wiped tears from my face and pulling myself to my feet, reaching in and turning the shower on. “I am not losing him again.”

When I emerged from the bathroom, fresh faced and all signs of my breakdown gone, Kurt was laying out cutlery on the now set dining table.

“Oh, um, the timer for the pasta went off so I took it off the stove top,” Kurt said when he noticed me staring at him – slightly creepily – from the doorway.

“Thanks,” I said quickly, moving to get the colander from the cupboard only to find that the pasta had already been drained.

Neither of us spoke for a little while besides the polite _this is delicious_ and _oh thanks, it's mum's recipe_ as we ate. There were so many things that I wanted to ask him – How are you? What have you been up to? Can you forgive me? Is holding on to the hope that you could love me again one day pointless? - but my throat had closed in on me and I was sure that if I tried to speak I would probably end up in tears, again. But even though I couldn't speak, I could still look. I tried not to make it too obvious that I was blatantly staring at him but it had been so long since I'd seen him that I really wasn't very successful.

“So, your parents aren't coming down this Summer?” Kurt asked out of nowhere, the shock of him doing so making me choke on my spaghetti for a second.

“No, they're not,” I said simply. _What are you doing, Blaine? He cares, he_ wants _to know._ “They – uh – they actually got divorced last year.”

“Oh Blaine, I'm so sorry.” For a moment it actually looked like he was going to reach out and take my hand, but it was only for a moment and then it was gone.

“Thanks. It wasn't like it was a shock or anything. I'd seen it coming for the last 10 years,” I shrugged; it was true, I still remember the day on the back porch when I asked Kurt if he knew what a divorce was.

“That doesn't mean it isn't hard,” he said, the look in his eyes so familiar and so _real_ that I couldn't decide whether I wanted to cry with happiness or in sorrow. “Well, what about you then, what have you been up to?”

“Umm, well, I go to Berklee,” I said, giving him one of the most genuine smiles I've been able to muster in a long while.

“No way!” Kurt exclaimed, the smile on his face growing ever wider.

And from then on conversation was easy. It was as if it was any other Summer; catching up on everything that had happened over the last year. We didn't speak about it though, or about us. I didn't ask about Burt either, despite the pain in my chest that needed to know that he was okay. We talked about me mostly; about school, about music, about Mum, Dad and Cooper. I was fine talking about me – just being able to talk to him at all was more than I could have hoped for – but I just wanted to know about him. I didn't even care if it wasn't the deep and meaningful stuff; I'd settle with knowing what good movies he'd seen recently.

“God, I didn't realise that was the time. I really should get going,” Kurt said suddenly, pushing back his chair as he stood and started to collect the dishes.

“Oh, where are you going to stay?” _Don't do it, Blaine._

“I'll just stay at the motel in town.” _Blaine, don't._

“That's ridiculous, you can stay here,” I said somewhat frantically. “And before you say you don't want to intrude, you're not.”

Kurt insisted on doing the dishes as a thank you, so I went about setting up Cooper's room for him.

“I have work in the morning but I finish at five so you're welcome to hang around here for the day,” I said as Kurt stood in the doorway to Cooper's old room, holding an old pair of Cooper's sweats in his arms. “So, you know where the bathroom is, and uh – there's towels in the cupboard above the sink if you wanted to shower -”

“Thanks, B.” Kurt smiled, stopping my babbling mid sentence.

We said goodnight and I managed to make it halfway through brushing my teeth before a single tear ran over my cheek.

_B._

…

“Okay, what's the matter?” Judy's voice came out of nowhere and made me jump so much that I missed the stem I was trying to cut and ended up cutting a leaf in half instead.

“What are you talking about?” I asked in confusion.

“You've been distracted all day – messing up people's change, jumping halfway out of your seat every time the door goes...”

“Have – have I really?”

She didn't even need to reply, the look on her face was answer enough.

“Okay,” I exhaled, running my hands through my hair. “Well, you know how last week I told you about the boy who, uh...”

“The love of your life?” she supplied with a smile.

I couldn't help but smile back. “Yes. Last night I came home from work and he's just _there_ , sitting on my doorstep!”

She was quiet for a moment, looking almost as if she was waiting for me to continue. When I didn't, she said, “And?”

“And nothing, really. He came inside, we had dinner and then he stayed in my brother's old bedroom. I mean, he mentioned nothing – it's been three years and he literally gave no explanation of why he was here.”

“Wait, he stayed over?” I nodded. “Then where is he now?”

“At my house -”

“Then what are you doing here?!” she exclaimed, standing up, and proceeded to pull me out of my seat. “You go home right now and tell him how you feel.”

“I can't, I don't finish for another hour,” I protested, though I knew there was no point if the way she was shaking her head was any indication.

“I can manage for an hour by myself. Now go!”

Though not finishing work for another hour wasn't the problem. I couldn't just rush into the house and tell him I never stopped loving him. He could have met someone; he could be engaged for all I know. It was hard enough plucking up the courage to kiss him all those years ago; and despite all of our history and everything we've been through since then, exposing myself like that _now_ was even more terrifying. But perhaps it was because of our history that made it so hard.

I spent the entire car ride home – which seemed so much shorter today than any other time in my life – psyching myself up. What did you say to the love of your life who you haven't spoken to in three years in order to convince them that they should love you back? In the end it didn't really matter because every thought of winning him back vanished when I got back and saw Kurt sitting with his legs hanging off the pier that sat between my house and the non-existent house which used to be his. He looked so young sitting out there, bringing me back to endless memories of the two of us sitting exactly like that for hours and hours. I was caught between wanting to join him – just sit down next to him and enjoy the silence – and going inside and waiting for him to come to me. It would be so easy to just pretend that everything was normal; I could run down the pier and jump straight off the end like I used to, splashing him in the process, but he would smile so I knew he didn't really mean it when he said he hated me. I'm sure that if I were to do that now, it would end pretty much the same way it always had. But there was a small part of me that couldn't get past the fear that if I did it, he really would mean it when he said he hated me, and I cannot risk that – I'm already broken, and the damage that would do would surely be irreparable.

I stood in the driveway for much too long deciding what I should do. Eventually I opted for going inside – Kurt would come inside when he wanted to, just like he'd talk to me when he wanted to. I remember the first Summer I came up here without him, how I sat on the pier or in the treehouse all day for an entire week. Mum told me that she thought it was probably best that I stayed home that Summer to give me time to get over and move past what had happened. But for me it was the total opposite; I _had_ to be here to do that. And perhaps it was the same for Kurt; if that was the case – if he had to just sit here for a week or two and just _think_ – then I could wait.

“Hey, you're back early,” Kurt said as he let himself inside about twenty minutes later.

I looked up from where I was making myself a coffee and said entirely untruthfully, “Yeah, it was really quiet so I got to leave early. Did you want a coffee?”

“Yes, thanks.”

“So, you didn't get too bored today, did you?” I asked, slightly nervous that his answer would be yes and that he only hung around to say goodbye before he left.

“No,” Kurt smiled, and I breathed out in relief. “I've really missed it here.”

I chose to take a sip of my coffee rather than reply because if I did I would surely say something stupid like _I've missed you being here._

I'm not sure how we came to the decision – we didn't actually talk about it – but Kurt ended up staying the night again. We cooked dinner together this time, Kurt saying it was the least he could do for imposing; I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from screaming at him that I _needed_ him to be here. Unlike last night, we moved into the lounge room after dishes were done.

“Did you want to watch a movie or something? There isn't really anything good on TV on weeknights,” I said, unsure of whether I should sit or wait for Kurt to sit and then choose my seat accordingly so that I didn't overwhelm him.

“Yeah, sure. Are they still in the same cupboard?” Kurt replied cheerily, moving around the couch and kneeling in front of the TV cabinet.

“Yeah, same one as always,” I replied, deciding to sit on one end of the couch. “Pick anything you want.”

I really couldn't remember what movies we had here so I doubt that anything he chooses I will have seen recently.

“I haven't seen this in _forever_ ,” Kurt said with a small laugh, turning his head to look at me, holding the DVD over his shoulder with the cover facing me.

I felt the prickle of tears behind my eyes when I read the title.

“You know I never turn down an opportunity to watch Harry Potter,” I said, to which Kurt smiled and took the disc out of the cover.

Kurt settled on the couch next to me – though we still sat a reasonable distance apart – as the image of Privet Drive appeared on the screen. This was the closest we'd been for more than a few minutes since yesterday, and it was suddenly like I was hyperaware of every movement he made; every time he adjusted how he was sitting or moved his feet. It may have been wishful thinking or perhaps because I was so on edge, but every now and then it felt as though Kurt was watching me, and even after he looked away, I couldn't shake the feeling.

We said goodnight quickly in the hall with shy smiles, Kurt disappearing into Cooper's room and I into mine. Despite how exhausted I felt, sleep would not come, tossing and turning until I felt like I would go crazy if I didn't fall asleep soon. It wasn't until a ridiculous hour in the morning that I thought to get up and get a glass of milk; _laying there tossing and turning and thinking of sleep will get you nowhere_ , Mum always said.

“Kurt, oh my god!” I nearly screamed as I opened my door to find Kurt right on the other side, his head bowed.

“I'm sorry,” he sobbed, looking up to meet my eyes, and it was now that I saw he was on the verge of crying.

“What are you apologising for?” I asked in befuddlement.

“I love you,” he sighed. “I fucking love you and I never stopped and I'm an idiot – _such_ an idiot – and it's been three years and I have thought of you _every single day_ and I'm sorry. And I know that you probably hate me and that you're just letting me stay here because you're too damn polite to ask me to leave. But I was at home the other day and Dad just gave me this _look_ and I knew that I couldn't just sit there so I drove out here the next day because I had to tell you because you're it for me and if I didn't I'd spend the rest of my life miserable and thinking about what could have been if I'd just gotten my head out of my ass.” Kurt was actually sobbing now, his shoulders shaking and his arms flailing as he talked.

A part of me knew that I should be crying and jumping with joy and holding onto him with no intention of ever letting go again. But that part was buried beneath the part that just didn't get it. Wasn't he the one that was supposed to me angry at me? Wasn't I the one who should be on my knees grovelling for his forgiveness? After all, it was my fault – my fault that Burt ran into that house, because I was the one that passed out. So why was he apologising to _me_?

“ _I love you_ ,” Kurt said again, but this time it was barely a whisper and the look in his eyes was so familiar that I couldn't help but be brought back to a conversation that scarily resembled this one.

And then I cracked, lunging at him, fisting my hands in his cotton shirt, my lips pressed hard against his.

“How did you think – even for a second – that there was – any chance – that I wasn't still deeply and forever – in love with you?” I asked in disbelief against his lips.


	17. 2017

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaine: 22, Kurt: 23.

I pulled my cardigan tighter around me, reaching for one of the two coffees sitting on the bench beside me. I could feel the warmth travel through me as I took a sip, and silently cursed whichever God was in charge of the weather; it was the first day of Summer, but it did not feel like it. Although that could also be due to the fact that it was 9:30 at night. I gripped my cup tightly, allowing the heat to warm my fingertips, as I continuously glanced at my watch; I really don't know why I did because the majority of the time only one or two minutes had passed.

At exactly 9:41 my head shot up as I heard the sound of an engine. I stood up and stretched my legs as I did so, my half drunk coffee in my left hand and the still full one in my right, as I saw the bus round the corner. There were one or two cars parked around the bus stop, presumably waiting to pick someone up, but I was the only one who was waiting outside. I had to wait for five people to get off the bus, but then he was bounding off the steps and over to me, duffle bag forgotten on the ground as he grabbed my face with both hands and pressed his lips against mine.

I felt him smile against my lips a moment before he pulled back and exhaled quietly, “Hi.”

“I brought you coffee,” I said, holding up the cup for him and being greeted with an even bigger smile – and gosh was it great to see it in non-pixelated form.

“I love you a lot,” he said, taking a cautious sip, cradling the cup in his hands.

“I'm glad to hear that hasn't changed,” I said happily, wrapping an arm around Kurt's waist as he picked up his bag again.

“Thank you again for picking me up. I really would've been fine getting a cab,” Kurt said as we approached my car.

“And spend another unnecessary 15 minutes not being with you?” I said with a raised eyebrow, to which Kurt chuckled. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” he smiled at me over the roof of the car before we got in. “I am very excited to see your house.”

I blushed a little then, the thought of Kurt seeing my childhood house, and my bedroom that hadn't been redecorated since I was 18, in person rather than in photos somewhat embarrassing.

It was only a short drive back to my mum's house; we were staying there for the night before driving down to the lake in the morning. I turned off the ignition and had jumped out of my seat to get Kurt's bag before he'd even taken his seatbelt off. I smiled brightly as I felt Kurt's fingers tangle with mine as we walked up the front steps.

“Mum? We're back!” I called as I shut the front door behind me, turning the lock and switching the porch light off.

“Kurt!” Mum practically squealed as she appeared from around the corner and pulled Kurt out of my grasp and into a hug. “Oh it's so good to see you, let me look at you!” She pulled back then, holding Kurt's face in her hands as she looked him up and down.

I was slightly annoyed about having to let Kurt go – it _had_ been five and a half months since I last saw him when I visited him in New York for New Years Eve – but Kurt was like another son to Mum and she hadn't seen him in four years, so I supposed it was alright if she stole him for a few minutes.

“Did you want a hot cocoa?” she asked, not even allowing Kurt long enough to answer before she continued, “Come with me to the kitchen.”

Okay, perhaps I slightly underestimated _a few minutes_. Kurt shot me an apologetic smile as he got dragged into the kitchen, but there was something about him that just screamed pure joy, so I really couldn't find it in me to actually be annoyed. I followed them into the kitchen and sat down on the stool next to the one Kurt was sitting on.

“Did you want one, sweetie?” Mum asked me, holding up a mug questionably.

“No thanks.”

Mum smiled and went about making two hot cocoa's, talking as she did so. “So, Kurt, tell me. What have you been up to?”

“I just finished my first year at NYU, which I'm sure Blaine told you, and I'm really really loving it...”

I didn't mean to block their voices out after that, but as I sat there with my chin resting on my hand watching how excited Kurt looked as he spoke and how happy my mum looked, I couldn't help but think _how the hell has so much changed since this time last year_? I didn't have Kurt – and despite what I told everyone, I honestly didn't think I ever would again. I couldn't be in the same room as Mum without feeling suffocated by the pity that seemed to radiate off her whenever I was around. I was kind of passing through life but not really living it – I mean, I loved college and hanging out with my friends, but it was a rare occurrence that a day went by when I didn't think about Kurt and where we could be right now if we hadn't screwed things up so badly. But sitting here in my mum's kitchen right now, there was not one aspect of my life I wasn't completely happy with.

I tuned back into the conversation when Mum was telling Kurt about the part time work she'd picked up at the local bakery. They weren't talking about it for long though as Mum stopped talking mid sentence when Kurt tried to cover up a yawn.

“Oh, Kurt, you're exhausted. I'll stop talking now and you get to bed.”

Kurt tried to protest, saying he really wasn't that tired, but gave himself away when he yawned halfway through saying so.

“Okay, okay. Thank you so much for the cocoa,” Kurt said, ever polite as always.

“It was no problem at all. I'm just glad to see you again.” Mum kissed both of us on the forehead – making us both laugh as memories of her doing exactly that so many times when we were younger came flooding back. Kurt picked up his bag from the entrance hall and then followed me upstairs and into my room.

“So this is your room.”

“You'll have to forgive the fact that 18 year old me was not as good an interior designer as I am now,” I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck nervously.

“It's perfect,” Kurt smiled, stopping when he saw the pin board above my desk. “How long have you had this?”

“Uh, always?”

“Really?” Kurt said shocked, spinning around to look at me. “Why didn't you ever include it in your photos?”

Now that I think about it, I never had sent Kurt a photo of it; every inch of it was covered with photos of the two of us, from when were were six years old to ones I'd taken last Summer.

“I guess I was kind of afraid that you would find it creepy.” And that wasn't a lie; as a kid that really was a legitimate worry, although as I grew older I guess I just got so used to not mentioning it that I just never did.

“I could never think you were creepy,” Kurt crooned, draping his arms around my shoulders and kissing me softly. When we pulled apart, Kurt said, “I have a box under my bed that has every single letter that you ever wrote me in it, so we're equally creepy.”

“Okay, we can be creeps together then,” I laughed, kissing Kurt again quickly and then going into the bathroom.

I watched Kurt from my adjoining bathroom while I brushed my teeth; the way the muscles in his back moved as he changed into a cotton shirt; the slow, tired smile when he got under the covers, pulling them up so they were nearly choking him, and snuggled into the pillow. I spat out my toothpaste and gulped down a glass of water before switching the light off. I got into bed quietly so as not to disturb Kurt, shuffling over and draping my arm over him.

“I really really missed you,” I whispered close to his ear.

Kurt was so far gone already that from his mumbling I only just managed to make out a me too and what I think was a love you.

“I love you too,” I said, and fell asleep with a smile on my face.

…

“Drive safely!” Mum called after us as we pulled out of the driveway.

“I've missed your mum,” Kurt said a little while later. “I mean, obviously no one could ever replace my mum, but after she died your mum was really all I had.”

“You have no idea how happy that would make her if she knew,” I said completely honestly. “Although it's probably a good thing you didn't mention it last night because she already looked like she was going to start sobbing at any moment and that would probably have pushed her over the edge.”

“You know,” Kurt said with a chuckle. “I think she might possibly like me more than she likes you.”

“I don't doubt that for a second.” I took a deep breath before asking what I've been wanting to ask for the last year but hadn't found the courage to do so, “I – uh – I was wondering, how's your dad going?”

I could sense that Kurt had gone stiff beside me, and when he replied, his voice sounded tight. “He's pretty good actually. He was pretty bad at first, but he's been getting better and better.”

“I'm so glad to hear that,” I said, reaching across and squeezing his hand.

“It was actually him that insisted I take up my offer with NYU. We've had to hire a nurse to come out a few days a week to help him with medication. I was worried about leaving him, but he seems to be coping fine, and I come home on the holidays. He's actually become quite friendly with one of our new neighbours – her name's Carole and she brings over casseroles and pasta bakes sometimes. If I'm not mistaken, I think they might have the hots for each other,” Kurt said with a laugh.

“Burt: the ladies man.”

“But yeah, he's doing really well. He's actually been bugging me about getting you to come and visit, so we should probably organise that otherwise he'll think I've been lying about us being back together.”

I couldn't keep my laugh in then, happily joining in with Kurt. “I'm sure that can be arranged.”

Just after noon, I noticed that Kurt had dozed off, his cheek resting against the window. Kurt never naps during the day, so I figured he must have still been pretty tired from yesterday so I let him sleep. It wasn't until about an hour later when I pulled over to pick up some sandwiches for lunch that he woke up.

“Mmm did I fall asleep?” Kurt said through a yawn, stretching in his seat.

I nodded. “You must have been pretty tired. Stay here, I'm just gonna buy us something for lunch,” I said, leaning across the centre console to kiss his forehead before grabbing my wallet.

We sat in our seats with the ignition off while we ate, deciding that was probably safer than eating while driving if I wanted to avoid wearing my food.

“Are you sure you're okay with me still working at the florist?” I asked, the question that had been plaguing me for weeks; ever since I first mentioned it to him.

Kurt finished his mouthful and then shot me a _are you seriously asking me this question again_ look and said, “Yes, I'm sure! You already cut down to three days a week which I also said you didn't need to do.”

“I just feel bad that I'm going to be leaving you alone for half the Summer.”

“I'll manage,” Kurt smiled, though there was something off about him, and there was a part of me that couldn't help but worry he was thinking about those two Summers when we didn't see each other at all.

I allowed myself a fleeting glance at the new house that had replaced Kurt's when we finally pulled into the driveway later that afternoon – as I'm sure Kurt did as well – but for the first time since I'd first seen it, it didn't cause me heartache.

“What are you smiling at?” Kurt nudged my shoulder as we carried our bags up to the house.

“I'm just really happy that you're here,” I sighed happily.

“Well let's go and check out what food you've left in the cupboards and see if there is something we can pull together for dinner, because I dunno about you but I really cannot be bothered driving into town,” Kurt said, and I had to agree; despite the fact that we really hadn't done anything other than sit all day, I really wanted to just collapse on the couch and not move until morning. “Okay, we have a packet of pasta, a can of baked beans, four packets of mac and cheese, two packets of mi goreng, a jar of pasta sauce and a packet of pancake mix.”

“Pasta?”

“Pasta it is.”

…

“Okay, time for bed. If I don't get up now I don't think I ever will,” I yawned, untangling myself from Kurt and rolling off the couch in the least graceful manner possible. I wandered down to my room, grabbing two pillows and a thick blanket, returning to the lounge room to find that Kurt was still laying in exactly the same spot. “Hey mister, time to get up!”

“Ughh fine,” Kurt grumbled, holding a hand up over the arm of the couch as a plea of _please help me_.

I readjusted the pillows in my arms and padded over to the couch, threading my fingers through Kurt's and tugging him up. Kurt snuggled into my side, taking one of the pillows from me as we made our way outside.

“Gimme the pillow and I'll throw it up once you're up there.”

“This ladder has never seemed so tall in my entire life,” Kurt said as he hoisted himself up the ladder.

It was ridiculous how long it took for us, along with our bedding, to get into the treehouse; between our tiredness and our apparent inability to throw. We both breathed a sigh of relief as we got comfortable in our makeshift bed, our faces close as we lay facing each other.

“I've missed this. Sleeping next to you,” Kurt whispered, threading his fingers through my hair. “I wish we could do this always.”

“In that case, I have a proposition for you!” Kurt's eyes widened in curiosity. “How would you feel about me moving to New York after I finish college next year?”

I held my breath as I waited for a reply, which did not come as soon as I would have liked, Kurt laying there silently with his brows furrowed.

“Did you just ask if I wanted us to move in together?” he said finally, a smile toying at the corner of his lips.

“If that's something you want, then yes I did. If not, then no, I was merely thinking that New York is a really nice city and I wouldn't mind a change in scenery...”

“Ha ha ha,” Kurt said sarcastically, before kissing me until I was breathless. “I would love nothing more than to move in with you.”

“Good,” I said with a sigh of relief. “Are you sure though? Because what happens if you meet a really attractive guy in the next year, like _supermodel_ attractive? Cause I dunno whether I can compete with that.”

“Shut up,” Kurt laughed, punching me in the arm playfully. “Okay, if it makes you feel any better: I, Kurt Hummel, promise with all my heart that you will always be my best and most favourite friend.”

And with that he held out his pinky finger and I felt tears prick up in my eyes. _He remembered._

“I, Blaine Anderson, promise with all my heart that you will always be my best and most favourite friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading.
> 
> Em xoxo


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